


The Pointe of It All

by Toppbanana



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Ballet, Alternate Universe - Dance, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-09
Updated: 2014-11-14
Packaged: 2018-01-24 02:09:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 34,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1587791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Toppbanana/pseuds/Toppbanana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The spring season at the Tardis Ballet Company will open with one of the most emotionally demanding ballets out there: Romeo and Juliet. The lead dancers must be technically sound but also must be able to make the audience believe they are madly in love with their partner. Principal dancer, Rose Tyler, wants the part of Juliet. When a stranger shows up after she does poorly in her audition and offers to help her, Rose feels a little more than a simple connection.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Season Opener

**Author's Note:**

> There will be a rating increase in later chapters.  
> Thanks for the read!

Rose Tyler had been dancing with the Tardis Ballet Company for the past seven years. At 17, she was accepted into the apprentice program. After a year of more broken toenails than she could count, muscle strains, spandex, and tulle, she became a Corps member and danced as Swan number nine in the company’s production of Swan Lake. In record timing, Rose became a second soloist, granting her the opportunity to dance the role of the Spring Fairy in Cinderella. Not long after, Rose was promoted to first soloist with her performance as the Lilac Fairy in The Sleeping Beauty.

Eventually, after years of bone breaking work, Rose’s childhood dream came true: she took the stage as the coveted Sugar Plum Fairy-and thus sealing her title as a principal artist of Tardis.

Rose made her way to the rehearsal studio where the upcoming season was to be announced by the new artistic director, Donna Noble. Donna was a former principal dancer, but had retired early after a serious injury. She continued to teach dance and develop her own choreography across the continent. Donna had a reputation of being loud, feisty, and often unconventional in her artistic choices, but she was also known to transform dancers into something magical.

As Rose exited the lift, firm hands grabbed her waist. Startled, she whirled around to see her usual partner, Jack Harkness, fighting back a laugh.

“Oi! What was that for?” she asked, swatting Jack lightly on the shoulder.

“Couldn’t resist,” he shrugged.

Before Rose could chime in with a retort, Rose’s friend and fellow principal, Martha, raced past them already in full warm up gear.

“You two are going to be late,” she called.

“Warm up isn’t for another half hour,” Jack responded.

“That was when Sarah Jane was running the place. Noble wants to get an early start today,” Martha said over her shoulder as she ran down the hall.

Rose and Jack looked at each other before tearing off towards their respective change rooms.

 

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Rose had made it to her spot at the barre between Jack and her mate, Mickey, just in time to start plies. The soft tinkling of piano music mingled with the murmur of gossiping conversation.

“What do you think the opener will be?” Martha asked from across the barre.

“I don’t know about you, but I’m gunning for Carmen,” Jack said.

“Carmen would be a lot of fun, and knowing what Donna is like, I’d say it’s a possibility,” Rose said adjusting her turnout.

“We haven’t done Giselle in a few seasons, I wouldn’t mind that one,” Martha chimed in.

“What about Don Quixote?” Mickey suggested.

They continued their warm up discussion while working through the rest of their plies, then moving into battements and rond de jambes. The sound of a door closing from the viewing gallery above halted the dancers. In walked a tall redhead and the former artistic director, Sarah Jane.

“Dancers,” Sarah Jane announced from above. “As you may know, I have begun to retire. It has been a delightful 40 years working and growing with Tardis,” She was interrupted by a round of applause and a whistle from Jack.

“Thank you,” Sarah Jane laughed after everyone had quieted down. “I’m not going to bore you lot with anymore of my speeches. At least until the benefactor gala, that is. It is my honour to welcome our new artistic director of the Tardis Ballet Company: Donna Noble!”

The studio broke out into applause again as the redhead stepped forward smiling warmly. “Thank you, Sarah Jane, and I can assure you that the honour is all mine,” Donna Noble said after hugging Sarah Jane affectionately. “I think Sarah Jane said it best about not wanting to bore you all with boring speeches, but before I let you get back to your warm up, I would like to announce our upcoming spring season. We will open with a personal favourite of mine: Romeo and Juliet. We will then jump right into Les Sylphides, and round out the season with Onegin! I will have further announcements regarding casting and workshops soon, but for now back to work!”

With a final smile from Donna and Sarah Jane, they turned and left the studio leaving the dancers all to completely stop their warm up and discuss the new season announcement.

“Why Romeo and Juliet?” Jack asked, sitting on the floor to stretch out his legs

“Romeo and Juliet is a classic,” Martha stated. “I mean its no Nutcracker or Swan Lake, but to be up there dancing Juliet’s variation…”

“Or the balcony pas de deux…”Rose added with a dreamy sigh.

“I’m sure Donna just doesn’t want a whole ‘Black Swan’ situation on her hands,” Mickey joked.

“You’re telling me you wouldn’t want to see Rose and Martha going down-”

“Jack!” Rose and Martha said in unison. Jack and Mickey roared with laughter.

           

           

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The next couple of days went by with very little change to the daily routine that Rose had grown accustomed to over the years: warm up and stretch, followed by girls’ technique, then couples’ tech, and finally various choreographies. More often than not, Donna was seen off to the side of the studio space with a clipboard, making notes here and there. Every now and then, she would single out some of the dancers and ask them to perform a combination or two. When she seemed satisfied, she would return to her place along the side of the room.

During an early morning class, Donna entered the studio. Everyone immediately began to divest themselves of their warm up gear; booties were tossed to the side, pointe shoes were adjusted, sweatpants were replaced with leotards and skirts. Donna laughed to herself.

“Well, I guess you already know what I’m here for,” she grinned. “Carry on,” The music struck up again and Rose patted her hair, making sure nothing was out of place. Rumours spread like wildfire in the studio; auditions and casting notices were no exception. Even before the formal announcement was made, everyone seemed to know.

Rose had taken to spending extra time in the studio going over pas de deux choreography with Jack each night in order to prepare. Unlike the Sugar Plum Fairy or Odette, so much of the dancing in Romeo and Juliet relied on the partnership and the emotional connection between Romeo and Juliet. She had been dancing with Jack for several years, so even though there were no romantic feelings between Rose and Jack (despite his best efforts), they had a chemistry together on stage. And when she wasn’t putting in extra time with Jack, she was working on the different versions of Juliet’s variation with Martha.

“William Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet,” Donna began to meander through the rows of practicing dancers. “Originally a play published in the 16th century. It has been transformed and adapted into more films, plays, and dance performances than I can count,” She tapped a few dancers on the shoulder and continued on.

“We all know the story. A boy and girl meet and fall in love. They are unable to be together due to the feuding between their families. They hatch a plan to run away and live happily ever after. But messages unfortunately go astray, and the two lovers end up taking their lives and, in their tragic end, finally get to be together. It is a tale done to death, I know. But not like this,” Donna skipped over Rose and Jack then tapped a few dancers in front of them. Rose couldn’t help the wave of disappointment that overtook her and settled in her core like a ball of hot lead.

“We are going to strip it down to the bare bones of what the star crossed lovers are truly feeling. What I want is to really capture the raw emotion between Romeo and Juliet. In the past, they’ve been portrayed as naive children, which in reality they are. But in this season’s production, I want to bring something more to the show. I want to bring passion. Romeo isn’t just trying to woo Juliet; Juliet isn’t just trying to woo Romeo. Together, they pull the audience in, their passion for each other seducing the audience. This isn’t a ballet that will wow the audience with breathtaking solos. This is a ballet that is the essence of chemistry between two people. Without the passion and attachment between Romeo and Juliet, there is no love story,” Donna reached the front of the studio looking over the dancers one last time. Seeming satisfied, she clapped her hands, effectively stopping the music. The studio of dancers turned to face her.

“The biggest challenge will be to find two of you that most captures the passion and excitement of new love, but also can evoke the intensity of doomed true love. They will have the privilege of becoming the star-crossed lovers. The dancers that I tapped on the shoulder,” Donna paused for what seemed to be a torturous dramatic effect, leaving everyone to collectively hold their breath. “Please attend your regularly scheduled rehearsals this afternoon. Those of you who I didn’t touch, please meet me in studio 4 at 4:15.”

 

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Martha, Jack and Mickey were going to be among those joining Rose in the afternoon audition. In order to calm her nerves before she entered studio 4, Rose made a quick stop at a little café across from the performance center. She ordered a mint tea with a drizzle of honey before she snagged her favourite chair by the window.

Rose pulled out her headphones, the music of the upcoming ballet filling her ears while she sipped her tea. She went over the motions of the dances in her mind. She didn’t realize she was also moving her feet to the movement as well, until she tripped a young busboy. After a quick apology, she ducked out of the café and headed for the studio.

The music of Prokofiev was still playing in her ears, so Rose didn’t hear a dark blue motorbike surging towards her. It came to a screeching halt in the knick of time.

“Oi, crosswalk’s down there,” a man’s voice called from within a matching blue helmet, as he gestured behind him with his thumb.

“Yeah, there’s also one right here too, mate,” Rose snapped back.

The man pushed back the visor of his helmet and looked down at the lines that indicated a crosswalk. There was a bit of brown fringe peeking out just above his eyebrows.

“So there is,” the man inhaled through his teeth, his warm, cocoa coloured eyes crinkling at the corner in what Rose thought was an embarrassed winced. “But you should have been watching where you were going.”

“Watching where _I_ was going?” Rose spluttered. “Look, I’m in a bit of a rush, so I don’t have time to argue with you. I’m sorry you almost hit me and I probably should have looked both ways.”

She started back across the street when the man’s voice called out to her.

“Wait!” Rose rolled her eyes, but turned back to the man. “I’ve not been to this area of the city alone before, and I got a bit…um…I got a bit turned around…”

“You’re lost?” Rose couldn’t fight the smirk.

“No, no of course not, just taking the scenic route,” he scoffed. “It allows me to meet interesting people such as yourself…”

“Okay, still in a hurry, does this ramble have a point?” Rose interrupted.

“Right yes, sorry! Can you point me in the direction of the Powell Hotel?”

“Three blocks up and turn left. It’ll be the big posh looking building that says Powell Hotel,” Rose pointed out then began crossing again, making sure to exaggerate looking both ways.

“Oh Miss, one more thing,” the man said, prompting another eye roll from Rose. “Good luck on your audition.”

The man snapped the helmet visor down and sped off down the street leaving Rose rather confused.

 

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“Nice of you to join us, Rose,” Jack said as Rose pushed past a group of people outside studio 4. Martha and Mickey joined him; all three of them were in the midst of stretching.

“Yeah, you’re cuttin’ it a bit close, babe,” Mickey said.

“Sorry, lost track of time at the café. Then had to give some bloke directions to the Powell after he nearly ran me down,” Rose flopped down beside Martha and started her stretches. However, before anyone could question her further, Donna’s head poked out of the studio door.

“Alright you lot, in you come.”

Rose followed Jack, Mickey, and Martha into the studio along with fifteen or so other dancers, all in various states of warm-up gear. Some were dressed like Rose with her skirt over a pair of sweatpants, a shrug, and warm-up booties over her pointe shoes, others were completely ready in proper audition attire. Noticing this, Rose quickly removed her booties and sweatpants and tossed them in the corner.

Rose noted that Donna was joined by Sarah Jane; the principal artist coach, Harriet Jones; and visiting guest ballet mistress, Renee Poisson.

“Eight days, ten shows,” Donna began. “That is what six of you will have the pleasure of doing. So for those of you calculating how many shows per person, which would be three shows per couple, with the exception of one couple. The pair that most impresses us, is the pair that will dance in four shows, including opening night and the closing performance.”

A murmur of excitement spread across the room. When Sarah Jane was artistic director, the dancers that opened only got one other show, and it was usually a matinee. Opening and closing shows were always the most popular, so she often had different dancers in each show to have as many dancers highlighted as possible.

“In addition to dancing in four shows,” Donna raised her voice over the crowd until they quieted. “These dancers will also become the faces of TBC’s Romeo and Juliet. They will be on the front of the program; they will be on the posters that will be seen across the city, they will be plastered all over our website.”

Donna smiled at the wide-eyed looks she got from the group standing in front of her. “Now, with all of that in mind, let’s begin. Martha Jones: Juliet’s variation if you please.”

Rose gave Martha a warm smile as Martha took to the center of the studio. When the music began, Rose watched as Martha’s elegance and grace really shined. Her lines were spot on every time; she was so smooth in and out of each pirouette and attitude. Martha had a gift of making everything look so effortless, yet complicated.

When Martha finished, the studio applauded politely, the artistic staff jotted down a few notes then called Jack to perform the Romeo’s fountain dance.

This pattern continued with six other dancers before Rose was called up to preform Juliet’s variation.

Rose stood up on somewhat shaky legs, she hadn’t warmed up as much as she would’ve liked, but she knew this variation inside and out. She may not be as effortlessly graceful as Martha, but Rose knew she had the passion and the heart that Juliet needed to have.

She finished with a light flourish and immediately looked to Donna. There was a soft smile playing on her lips as she nodded then wrote a few things down on her clipboard. Sarah Jane beamed and mouthed the words “well done”. Rose curtsied and hurried back to where Martha was sitting.

Once the rest of the dancers had finished their solos, Donna stood up again.

“Those solos proved why I selected all of you to be in running for the leads. They are also going to make our lives much more difficult in selecting our Romeos and Juliets. But, as I said before, Romeo and Juliet isn’t about the power you have as a soloist. At this point, I don’t care if you can do the Black Swan’s thirty-two fouettes. At this point, I care about the connection you can make with another dancer. Technique is something we can all teach you; passion is not. One pair at a time, you will come in and preform the balcony pas de deux,” Donna clapped her hands. “Okay, get yourselves a drink, partner up, and I will see you all back her in five.”

Like clockwork, Rose looked to see Jack already grinning at her. Naturally, the two of them paired off and Martha went with Mickey. Before long, Donna’s voice rang out again summoning Adam and his partner, Christina, into the studio.

While the other couples were in the studio, those who were left waiting attempted to practice. Rose and Jack had been struggling with a few of the lifts, so that’s where they started. Rose half watched Adam and Christina leave the studio space as they asked for the next pair.

Couples entered and left, each with different emotions painting their faces. And in what felt like no time at all, Rose and Jack were the only one’s left.

They were going over the final cambré press lift of the pas de deux, when Mickey and Martha emerged. They were coated in a light sheen of sweat and appeared to be pleased.

“You’re up,” Martha smiled, still trying to catch her breath.

“How’d it go?” Rose asked as she made some final adjustments to her ribbons.

“We’ve all got the day off tomorrow, so why don’t we discuss it over a pint?” Mickey offered.                                                     
“We may need a few pints after this,” Jack said.

“Oh, you two will be fine! Just go dance the pants of ‘em!” Mickey comforted.

“Break a leg!” Martha hugged them both.

Martha and Mickey gave a final wave and started down the hall towards the dressing room. He wrapped his arm around Martha’s shoulders. Rose smiled as she watched Martha lean into him.

“Now or never, Rosie,” Jack took Rose’s hand and together they entered the studio.

Rose looked over to where Donna, Sarah Jane, Harriet, and Renee were sitting. They all had their clipboards with pens at the ready. Sarah Jane wore her usual warm smile that offered comfort to Rose. Harriet and Donna both sat professionally, but still smiled gently at Rose and Jack when they entered. Renee, on the other hand, looked down right bored.

“Last, but certainly not least,” Donna beamed. “Whenever you two are ready, you may begin.”

Rose looked up at Jack. His at ease smile relaxed her a little.

“Just show them the love you have for me, and everything will be fine,” he winked and brought her knuckles to his lips, kissing them softly. The gesture would have had many ladies (and gentlemen) swooning, but it was simply a ritual of good luck the two of them shared ever since they became regular partners.

“See you in hell, yeah?” Rose gave a nervous laugh.

“See you in hell,” Jack echoed.

They went to separate ends of the studio and waited for the music to begin.


	2. Better with Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slight rating increase just to be on the safe side. Nothing major quite yet.  
> Thanks again for reading!

Rose fell. She lost her footing in an attitude turn and fell. Not anything major, but it was enough for the role to slip right through her fingers. Jack had been an exceptional partner and somehow managed to adapt his steps to cover up her falter. Rose didn’t think it would hold up to the standards of dancing the lead despite Jack’s assistance. He would be fine. He was one of the best dancers, male or female, Tardis had to offer. She knew he would get whatever part he wanted.

Best-case scenario, she would get to perform in one of the matinees, or be an alternate. More than likely, she would be one of the masked ball attendees or a maiden to Juliet, in other words, anonymous. Rose’s heart sunk. Back in the Corps all in one go. She had really gone and mucked up a first impression with the new A.D.

“It couldn’t have been that bad, Rose,” Mickey stated as he poured himself another pint; Rose had barely touched hers

“It wasn’t!” Jack insisted. “After all of us getting the room hot and sweaty with the solos and then adding the pas de deux afterwards, the floor was bound to have some sticky spots. Rose you were beautiful.”

It was easy for him to say, Rose thought bitterly. Jack was spot on with everything.

“Mickey’s wrists didn’t lock properly during our Romeo and Juliet press. Nearly dropped me, he did,” Martha said, hoping to comfort her friend. When Rose said nothing, she continued. “I’m sure it isn’t as bad as you think. You’ve always been too hard on yourself, Rose.”

“Martha’s right,” Jack rubbed soothing circles between Rose’s shoulder blades. “You’ve always been your own worst critic. I saw the passion you had when you were out there first hand. Hell, I believed that you were madly in love with me! And I would be willing to wager that Donna saw it too.”

“Thanks guys,” Rose sighed. “But I think I’m just gonna head home and sleep.”

“You sure Rose?” Martha’s brow furrowed.

“Yeah, maybe I’m just overtired. A solid night’s sleep and the day off tomorrow will do me some good.”

“Want me to walk you home, Rosie?” Jack offered.

“Nah, I’ll be okay. You lot stay here and celebrate your upcoming role announcement. I’ll see you guys in the studio Monday morning.” Rose offered a smile that she knew didn’t reach her eyes, but her friends didn’t question her further.

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Rose didn’t head back to her flat. She headed straight to the studio and decided to dance out some of her emotions.

Most of the studio spaces were left unlocked during the show season in case dancers wanted a little extra rehearsal time, or in Rose’s case, personal time. She already had her bag with her, so Rose made a b-line for her favourite studio. It wasn’t the biggest studio space, but it had a wall of mirrors on one side, and a wall of windows that offered the perfect view of the park below.

Rose only flicked on the mirror lights, comforted by the dim lighting. The speakers hissed into life as she plugged her iPod into the system. The under-buzz almost lulling her into a hypnotic state as she tied the ribbons of her pointe shoes.

After a brief warm up at the barre and a few jetes across the floor, she felt herself relaxing.

The thought of revisiting the choreography of Romeo and Juliet crossed her mind for a second, but she decided to skip over it for now. The wounds were still fresh from that afternoon. Besides, even if she could dance the solo and pas de deux perfectly, what would it solve? She was the only one in the studio to see it.

She scrolled through the different variations she had and settled on the Dying Swan to start. It was one of her favourites and one she could do with ease.

The melancholy chords rocked Rose into her own little bubble. She could feel each stretch and pull of her muscles as she glided across the studio floor. Her heart rate increased and contrasted the slow tune of the piano and violin. As she raised her arms above her head as if they were wings, she finally felt the tension and emotion of the day beginning to fade, but she couldn’t help getting caught up in the emotion of the piece as she knelt in the final pose.

Once she collected herself, she decided she couldn’t let today’s performance get to her. It didn’t matter if anyone else saw her do it perfectly, but she needed to prove it to herself.

She began just doing a walkthrough of the pas de deux steps while counting out loud. Unfortunately, watching herself in the mirror made things more difficult. Every time she saw herself make a mistake or not extend enough, she was brought back to that afternoon. She turned around to face the window behind her. The studio space was six floors up, so she focused on the view of the night sky and bar hoppers below rather than her own reflection.

Taking a deep breath, she pressed play on the remote she had tucked into her leotard.

It was rather difficult to complete a pas de deux considering she was the only one taking part, but she thought she was coping well. She managed to nail down the attitude turn she had faltered on earlier in the day, which soothed her a bit. She attempted to mark out the lifts as best she could without Jack, but it was pointless. She began to grow more and more frustrated and it showed in her steps. Each time she would mess up, she would begin again.

Rose had started the piece for what felt like the twentieth time. She knew there would be some nasty blisters on her feet waiting for her when she removed her shoes. The sound of a throat clearing startled her.

“As stunning as you are to watch alone, it’s usually easier to perform a pas de deux with a partner. Better with two, I always say!”

Rose whipped around to see the silhouette of a man leaning casually against the doorframe.

“How long have you been standing there?” Rose asked a little more aggressively then she wanted to.

“Weelll,” he drawled. “Not that long really. Long enough to see that you need to relax a bit more.”

Rage bubbled up in Rose’s chest. Who the hell was this bloke telling her she needed to relax a bit more? She had been doing just fine and she didn’t need some stranger telling her to _relax a bit more_.

“Thank you for your advice, but I’m fine,” Rose responded icily.

“I can help you if, you want?” he offered unfazed by her tone.

“I don’t need your help. I’m fine.”

The man stepped fully into the room to where she could see him more clearly. He was tall and rather lean, but there were some distinct lines of muscles that showed through his tight shirt. She couldn’t tell if his legs were as fit as his torso due to the loose fitting pants that hung off his narrow hips. He had deep chestnut coloured hair that seemed to have a mind of its own (she would later deny the urge to plunge her fingers into his hair to see if it really was as soft as it looked). His features were still hidden by the dimmed lighting, but Rose could make out a soft smile playing on his lips.

“I know what your thinking. Who is this guy? Why does he think he can tell me how to improve my dancing? How did he even get in here? Is he going to kill me? How in the hell does he get his hair to look so perfect?”

“I really don’t think that-”

“I actually altered the electrics of a run of the mill hairdryer. Better than running through a fresh spring meadow!” He beamed, ruffling his hair for emphasis. “I’m a bit of a genius, but that’s neither here nor there.”

Rose didn’t realize she had been stepping backwards until she felt the wall come in contact with her back.

“You really are a brilliant dancer, truly; so elegant and dainty, yet powerfully emotional. It’s incredible to watch, really. But you need to relax. Loosen up a bit.” He took a step towards her. Either he didn’t realize her anger or he didn’t really care, Rose wasn’t sure, which only fuelled her more.

“Like I said, I really don’t need your help, ta.”

“I know, I know,” he waved his hand dismissively. “Look, why don’t I try to convince you that I may be of service to you? If not, I will be on my way.”

He took Rose’s silence as a yes and he moved over towards the sound system console. He unplugged her music and replaced it with his own. After a moment of scrolling through the screen, he seemed to find what he was looking for. He positioned himself in the middle of the studio and waited for the music to cue.

Rose’s jaw dropped as the spritely music of La Bayadere filled the studio. He wasn’t going to…He couldn’t possibly be doing a Solor variation…

His leaps looked achieve a height that were over Rose’s head with room to spare, and he seemed to be suspended in the air at the peak. His feet moved at lightning quick speeds with each jump. This was one of the most difficult variations to hit the stage, and this man moved across the floor with grace and ease, as if it were nothing at all. His effortless performance should have angered her to the core, he was clearly showing off, but she couldn’t help staring as she felt all of her rage melt away. He was beautiful!

He pulled his concluding pose as the music finished. His chest rapidly rose and fell with every breath, and yet he still managed to shoot Rose a smile that could be classified as lascivious and probably illegal in several countries. She mentally screamed at her own stuttering heart.

He must have known he floored her with his performance because he had an extra spring to he step as he sauntered back over.

“Well?” he panted.

“Was that...?”

“Solor’s variation? Yep!” He popped the “p”.

“Did you just do twelve turns into reverse 540s?”

“Yep!”

“You’re a fair bit cocky aren’t you?” Rose raised an eyebrow.

“A bit, yeah,” he chuckled. “So, are you convinced?”

“Who the hell are you?”

“Oh, no one of consequence,” he laughed again, but this time there was an almost sad undertone. “Now, about that assistance?” He looked like an eager puppy.

Sighing in defeat (and maybe even relief), Rose nodded, but she couldn’t help the smile that tugged at her lips.

“Was that a smile?”

“No.”

“That was a smile.”

“No, no it wasn’t.”

“You smiled,” he said singsong.

“Didn’t.” Rose replied trying to fight down yet another smile. What the hell was this man doing to her?

He wrapped his fingers around her own and tugged her in front of the mirror. She was surprised at the empty feeling she got when he let go of her hand.

“Okay, show me what you were working on earlier,” he prompted, stepping back a few paces.

Rose rotated her ankle a few times and flexed her feet before doing a few warm up jumps to get the blood flowing to the correct areas again.

She proceeded into the pas de deux while this strange man gazed at her. It wasn’t like the calculating gaze of Donna or the judgemental one of Renee during her audition; it was one of curiosity and admiration.

“You’re a very emotional dancer, it’s wonderful to see. Emotions can’t be taught like technique can,” he stated while continuing to watch her. Donna’s speech from earlier rang in the back of her mind.

“Okay, right there, freeze. Would you mind if I adjusted you a bit?”

Rose shook her head and remained balanced en pointe with her leg curved behind her in attitude. She felt strong hands come to rest on her waist. They were firm and commanding, but still gentle and comforting. It was as if she was a wild animal that he was trying not to spook.

“If you let go of your center,” he guided her into her next step. “It will just happen naturally.” As she did, it was almost as if she just fell into the next step.

Together, they progressed through the balcony scene pas de deux. They moved as though they had been partners for years. Rose had never danced like that with anyone, including Jack. Every now and then she would make eye contact with the man. His eyes were still shadowed by the dimmed lights, but she could tell that he was looking at her, and she knew that she had the same dreamy expression on her face. Her skin tingled with electricity wherever he touched her, and she cursed internally at her fluttering heart.

“Now release the neck,” he murmured into her ear. Rose felt the gooseflesh appear on her skin and she was sure he could too. She really wanted to blame a sudden chilled breeze, she really did, but the room was far too warm for a breeze like that. Actually, it felt like the temperature in the room had risen several degrees in the past few minutes…

He lifted her high above his head as though she weighed nothing at all. After being dropped on more than one occasion, it often took Rose weeks for constant rehearsals for her to gain the trust of her partner enough to preform a lift, and she was allowing this man, whom she had just met, to preform some of the most difficult, intimate, and trusting lifts.

She heard him faintly humming the melody of the music that wasn’t playing. It was oddly soothing. She told herself it was merely to keep time.

“Lovely!” the man smiled once they finished. “Just lovely!”

“Thank you,” Rose felt the colour rising in her cheeks. “Fo- for your help, I mean. My usual partner is great, but you just seem so relaxed and at ease with everything. And I…um… I’m sorry for snapping at you earlier. I’ve had a bit of an off day, so I decided to come and dance the tension away. And you just kinda-”

“Don’t worry about it!” he took a step towards her. This time she didn’t back away. “ Everyone has rough days. As a dancer, it’s instinct to want to leave all of your emotions out there on the floor. Whether it be relationships, family, auditions…” he added seriously. “Would you like me to show you again?”

“You wouldn’t mind?” Rose looked up, and then away quickly when she realized her voice was as high-pitched and eager as a schoolgirl.

“Not in the least,” he chuckled before lacing their fingers together and leading her to her starting spot. Rose felt the heat that was becoming all too familiar coursing through her veins. Much of which was directed low in her core.

“There you are John!” Donna’s voice rang through the studio space, breaking the spell between them. “I’ve been looking all over the place for you! Always telling others not to wander off, and what the hell do you do? Oh! Rose, sorry I didn’t realize anyone was still here.”

“Yeah, um sorry. I was just squeezing in a quick dance session before my day off, but I was just leaving,” Rose looked quickly at the man, whose name must have been John, then dashed to pick up her bag and iPod.

“One last thing,” Donna touched Rose’s arm before she could leave. Her eyes were alight with kindness and something else Rose couldn’t quite put her finger on. “You gave a wonderful performance today. As I said before, it is about the passion and connection. Well done! Enjoy your day off and I’ll see you back here on Monday.”

Rose nodded at Donna with a grin, and threw a quick glance at John over her shoulder. His cheeks were tinged pink, and he had his lower lip caught between his teeth. On anyone else, the body language would’ve dictated embarrassment, but if Rose didn’t know any better, she’d say he looked pretty smug. He gave a sloppy mock salute.

As she walked towards the lift, she couldn’t help the flare of hope that had pooled in her core. There might have been something else that mixed with the hope to create her current happy cocktail, but she would deny that part.

 


	3. Dreaming of You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another rating increase! Nothing explicit (yet). This chapter kind of finishes on a slower note, but I need to build up some plot. Thanks again for reading and all of your lovely comments!

That night Rose Tyler dreamt. Her hyperactive imagination filled her sleeping mind with images of the mysterious John.

Rose wore her pointe shoes and was clad in a short black and red dress made of satin and lace. John stood across from her wearing tight leather-looking trousers that clung to his muscular legs like second skin. His naked torso looked strong and lithe-it called to Rose like a Siren’s song. The shadows created by scarlet-tinted light accentuated his features making him look like lust personified.

Rose stretched out a hand in a silent beckoning. John approached her with a sinful look in his eyes, a look that could have seduced the purest of the pure. When he took her hand, he roughly tugged her, pulling her off her feet until her knee rested on his thigh with the other leg stretched out behind her. Rose wrapped hands around the back of John’s neck where she lightly caressed the shorter hair there. John leaned her back and rested his forehead against hers, their lips dangerously close to touching.

When they released each other, Rose stepped backwards; her eyes never left John’s. The slow, sultry smile that graced John’s lips mirrored her own as he walked forward to chase her. By the time John reached her, Rose had whipped around and pressed her back into his front. John moulded his body to hers as he brought his hands above up above their heads to join where hers were crossed. With practiced precision, John brushed his fingertips down Rose’s arms. The sensation vibrated through her.

Rose could feel John’s hot breath on her neck. She leaned into him has his hands continued their way down to her hips. His lips soon replaced the spot on Rose’s neck where his breath had been. The barely there touch shot heat through her veins.

Rose turned in John’s arms and raked her nails through his thick hair as attempt to gain the upper hand. It was briefly achieved as she noticed John groan and that his eyes had fluttered shut. Before Rose had time to celebrate her little victory, John’s eyes snapped back open, even darker than before.

Abruptly, John shoved her away. He stood tall and still with his chest pushed out and head held high. Rose felt his eyes roam over her. For a moment, fear mixed with her arousal. John must have been aware of what she was thinking because a sly smirk spread across his lips.

Rose had a split second to inhale sharply before John pounced. He snaked his leg around Rose’s hips and, with it, tugged her into his arms.

“You little minx,” John growled into Rose’s ear. He slid his hands down to cup her bum; the action forced her hips into his. Rose had to bite her lip to stifle a moan when she felt the evidence of John’s own growing desire.

It was Rose’s turn to push John away. This time, she kept a hold of one of John’s hands. Gracefully, Rose stepped en pointe and extended her leg into arabesque. John slowly walked around Rose with her hand still in his grasp. The motion spun her around like the dancer figurine inside of a music box.

John trailed his fingers down Rose’s outstretched leg and curled it around his back. Rose lowered herself back down off her toes and leaned her head back onto John’s shoulder. At the same time, they both turned their heads towards each other; their lips close enough that Rose felt his gentle puffs of air against her mouth. All she had to do was angle her head…

Cold air met Rose’s naked back. She turned around to find that, once again, John had backed away with the teasing smirk and challenging glint in his dark eyes that seemed to be hardwired to her groin.

They prowled around each other in a sensual tango fashion, daring the other to make the next move.

Rose’s hands skimmed the curves of her hips up to her chest. She flashed John a tongue touched grin that held promise. Something snapped in John’s eyes.

In the blink of an eye, John was behind her, his erection pressed firmly into Rose’s backside. Rose pushed back and returned the pressure. She was rewarded with John’s tightened grip on her hip and the hissed air through his teeth.

John’s hands followed the same path Rose’s hands had previously mapped out. When he reached the swell of her chest, he palmed her breast. He coaxed her nipple into a peak through the thin fabric of her dress. This time, Rose did moan. She felt John’s smile against her neck.

“Yes, let me hear you,” he nipped at her earlobe.

Wetness pooled between Rose’s legs. She felt John’s hand leave her breast. She cried out at the loss of contact. He chuckled against her before lightly sucking on the junction between her neck and shoulder.

John’s fingers crept down her stomach towards her throbbing need. Rose whimpered and felt her knees grow weak. John adjusted his stance to accommodate her as she sagged against him.

Rose was going to combust. Between the lazy circles John rubbed through her leotard against the swollen nub beneath, the way he rocked his erection into her backside to find his own relief, the string of filthy promises he panted under his breath in her ear, the blaring ring of her mobile…wait.

“Not now,” Rose whined, waking from her blissful dream. She rolled over attempting to get back to her dream. When the chirps stopped, she thought she would be able to. No such luck. Her phone went off again. She seriously considered throwing it against the wall.

“What?” she grumbled into the phone

“Are you okay?” Martha’s voice sounded concerned.

“Yeah, yeah m’okay. Just woke up,” Rose mumbled.

“I was just seeing if you still wanted to go for a run this morning?”

“I can meet you at your place in a half hour?” Rose asked rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

“Can you make it an hour?” Martha hesitated.

“Sure, I’ll see you in an hour,” Rose rang off.

As she got ready, Rose let her mind drift back to her dream. Details had faded over time, but she was still left feeling a little flustered. What the hell had that been about? It had been a great dream, a really great dream, but why? She didn’t even know the guy, and here she was having naughty fantasies like a schoolboy. She probably wouldn’t ever see this John bloke again. Still, her only complaint was that it was over too soon. This run was going to do her some good in more ways than one.       

TBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTB

Rose and Martha had planned to head to the studio a little earlier Monday morning to see if the list of dancers had been posted. But it also seemed that everyone else had the same idea as well.

Rose was nervous. She knew she didn’t give a spectacular audition, but after speaking with Donna, there was a little spark of hope. She attempted to shove that little spark off to the side. If she let it grow too much and she wasn’t cast as Juliet, it would hurt. By ignoring the hope, the rejection would only sting a little.

“Nothing yet?” Rose asked sitting on the floor in front of Mickey and Jack.

As if on cue, shouts came from down the hall.

“That’s definitely not nothing,” Martha laughed as she watched Mickey and Jack jump up and run towards the voices. Martha made to follow them. “You comin’ then?”

“You go ahead. I’ll wait for the crowd to die down a bit,” Rose forced a smile to hide the pang she felt in her stomach. Martha’s brow furrowed, but she got up after Rose gave her a playful shove.

Rose started to stand up. She heard Jack’s voice call out her name.

“Rose, get down here!”

Rose walked down the hall where the crowd of people was still pretty thick. Several people patted her on the back offering her congratulations. Confused, Rose picked up her pace.

“You may want to take a look at the posting,” Jack said seriously when Rose made it through the throng of people.

Rose looked at the posting of names that announced the roles each dancer was assigned. Immediately, she spotted Martha and Mickey’s names cast as Romeo and Juliet. Then she saw Jack’s name. He was cast as Mercutio. Her heart simultaneously soared and sunk. She knew Mickey and Martha were going to be cast, but that didn’t stop her from being over the moon happy for them. Jack being cast as Mercutio was the shocker. If he didn’t even get cast as Romeo, then what did that mean for her?

“Well done you two!” Rose turned back to her friends and pulled Martha and Mickey into a hug, which they quickly ended. “I’m sorry you didn’t get Romeo, Jack. You’ll make a brilliant Mercutio! If I hadn’t mucked up our-“

“For Christ’s sake, Rose! Did you not even open your eyes?” Mickey couldn’t fight his smile anymore.

“Look again, Rosie,” Jack grasped her shoulders and turned her back to face the posting. Rose’s eyes scanned the names. At the very top of the list was her own name right next to the word ‘JULIET’ in bold black font. She stilled.

“And the penny drops,” Martha laughed.

“But my audition…I fell!” Rose said. She really couldn’t believe what she saw. She looked back at the posting. And there in the same text as Martha and Mickey’s names, was hers. As she stared at the posting a second time she noticed her partner’s name was missing. The other two Romeos (Mickey and Adam) were listed next to their partner’s names, but the only thing next to her Romeo’s name was ‘GUEST PRINCIPAL’ _._

“What does that mean?” Rose asked perplexed by the whole situation. “Who is the guest principal?”

Before the others had time to respond, Donna had poked her head out of her office and asked if Rose would be able to stop by before her warm up. Rose bid the others farewell and headed down to the office in question. Her mind tried to catch up with everything that had happened. She was cast as Juliet! And not just any Juliet, but _the_ Juliet! But who was this guest artist? Why was Jack not cast as Romeo? They were usual partners, after all.

Rose pushed her questions aside and knocked on Donna’s door.

“Come on in, Rose! I just had a few things to go over before you start your day,” Donna was perched on the corner of her desk. “By now I’m sure you have seen the posting. So I’m also sure you’ve seen that I’ve paired you with a guest artist. A guest artist I would like to introduce you to now before we made the company wide announcement.”

She indicated a tall man that stood off to the side that Rose hadn’t noticed before. He was tall and slim with a hint of freckles that dusted his features. His hair was unruly, yet absolutely perfect. She had the urge to plunge her fingers into that head of hair like her life depended on it. And for some reason, she didn’t think he would mind the slightest. In fact, she had a feeling that he would rather enjoy it. That’s when it hit her. She felt her face redden.

“You!” Rose gasped breathlessly.

“Rose I would like to formally introduce you to John Smith. He is a principal with Galifrey Ballet and will be your Romeo.” Donna said.

“Hello again, Rose,” John said happily. His rich chocolate coloured eyes dancing with humour. Rose had another epiphany. The last time she saw his eyes clearly, they were visible behind a dark blue helmet…

“I know Jack is your regular partner,” Donna stepped in. “But after seeing the chemistry you and John had last night, I couldn’t resist. You two danced like you had been partners for years! I’d never seen anyone dance with that sort of connection. And after speaking with Sarah Jane, we both thought that Jack’s personality was a better fit for Mercutio. I also want to bring him on as assistant choreographer to help me out. I’ve got millions of things to do with Sarah Jane leaving, so I could his expertise in partnering. I think he is one of the few out there that will have the stamina to choreograph and dance in ten shows.”

“Yeah, well I’m sure he doesn’t get that stamina from this sort of dancing,” John muttered under his breath.

“Don’t start, John,” Donna rolled her eyes. “I think I’ve kept you here long enough, Rose. You may head off to warm up. We will be in shortly.”

Rose thanked Donna for the wonderful opportunity, shot a look at John, and then left the office.

She made her way down to the change rooms when she heard a pair of running feet behind her. She turned around when the person touched her shoulder. It was John.

“Hit anyone else with your bike?” Rose asked with a cheeky tongue touched smile. She didn’t miss the way John’s eyes zoned in on the hint of tongue that peaked out. Something in her roared to life.

“If my memory proves to be correct, which it usually is- I am a genius after all, I recall I only almost hit you,” John replied with a comparable level of cheek.

“John!” Donna hollered from the depths of her office. “Get your skinny arse back in here! You still have more paperwork to sign!”

“I should probably-“

“Yeah, I need to head to warm up anyways…”

“See you around,” John flashed a heart stuttering grin. Once again, Rose felt her face flush. This better not become a habit, she thought to herself.

 

About halfway through warm up, Donna entered the studio space followed by John. The entire studio gasped, except for Rose and, for some reason, Jack.

“That’s Jonathon Smith!” Martha whispered.

“So it is,” Rose said with a feigned innocence.

“He hasn’t been seen or heard from in ages! Everyone thought that he had retired from dance.”

“He spoke to me,” Rose blurted out. “Well, he almost ran me down on his motorbike.” She decided to keep the part where he whirled her into a stupor and the aftermath of said stupor to herself.

By the time Rose had finished explaining the incident to Martha, Donna had finished with John’s introduction.

            Rose’s eyes followed John as he took a spot at the barre across the room. She couldn’t help the disappointment that settled in the pit of her stomach. This was getting ridiculous, she was behaving like a little girl with a silly crush. She schooled her features and got on with the rest of her warm up.

Once they had finished their barre work, Rose turned to Jack to congratulate him on becoming assistant choreographer. However, she noticed that he wasn’t there. Jack was on his way over to John. This couldn’t be good.


	4. Pas de Poisson

Rose followed Jack on his way to John. Jack had already reached John, but she wasn’t close enough to hear their conversation over the rest of the dancers packing up. Jack and John both looked very stiff while speaking to one and other. She couldn’t see Jack’s face, but John’s was clouded with a stormy expression. Just as Rose had begun to pick up her pace, she watched Jack pull John into a hug. Rose reached them just as they broke apart.

“You two know each other?” Rose asked in disbelief. Jack gave a hardy laugh, but John only responded with a tight-lipped smile.

“Johnny here and I go way back,” Jack grinned.

“Don’t, don’t call me that,” John winced. “That’s what…well never mind. Just don’t.” Jack ignored him.

“John and I trained together back in America. He left me behind to go dance with Galifrey. When I ended up at Tardis we still stayed in touched until he met R-“

“That’s enough, Jack,” John said testily. “That’s part of my past I wish to not dwell.”

Jack rolled his eyes and huffed in frustration. “We know. You just run from it. Well guess what, it’s starting to catch up with you. So are you gonna start running from that too?”

Rose saw anger flash across John’s eyes and decided to step in. “Okay, why don’t we head to Harriet’s class, yeah?” She didn’t know what prompted her to do so, but she laid a hand on John’s arm. To her relief, he seemed to relax into her touch. “Then maybe we could meet up with Martha and Mickey for lunch before we plunge head first into this Romeo and Juliet choreo?”

The two men nodded. Rose wasn’t sure if it was at her suggestion or an unspoken truce between each other. The feeling of John’s fingers wrapping around her own distracted her from her thoughts on the matter.

“Shall we?” John’s voice was much lighter and reminiscent of their rendezvous in the studio a few nights ago. Rose supressed a shiver at the thought and only nodded at John, not trusting her voice.

 

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Their class with Harriet and the lunch with Mickey and Martha went by with a hitch. Whatever had stirred up John and Jack seemed to be behind them. They were both laughing and telling stories of the trouble they got into while they trained together. Jack had mentioned that John was one to run from his past, but the tales that John recanted seemed to be an acceptable neutral territory.

John was a very animated storyteller. He spoke a mile a minute that left Rose to wonder if he ever stopped to take a breath. He often used his hand for emphasis. Even when he was talking, the movements of his hands were so full of grace. Rose thought he would have used both hands if he could, but one was holding her own, every now and then brushing his thumb over her wrist. He had barely dropped her hand since they left the warm up studio earlier. Even when her hand wasn’t in his, he still seemed to always find an excuse to touch her- the small of her back, her shoulder, her arm, and once her face to brush a stray lock of hair behind her ear.

“So there we were in the orchestra pit with nothing but rehearsal tutus,” Jack said through a laugh. “When the head ballet mistress walks by and pokes her head down and says: ‘The next time I catch either one of you in a lady’s dressing room, I will put you on stage in nothing but a tutu and the Swan Queen’s crown!’” The entire table roared with laughter.

“It could be like Matthew Bourne’s Swan Lake,” Rose joked once she caught her breath. “I can picture it now: all of you on stage in nothing but fluffy white tutus dancing around the mad prince! Do you think we could convince Donna to put it in next season?”

“I would much rather see you up there in nothing but a bunch of feathers, Rosie,” Jack winked. The brush of John’s thumb stilled and his grip tightened on Rose’s hand.

“Why is it that you two always end up starkers?” Rose asked trying to defer the conversation.

“Weellll,” John drawled, “it’s not so much that _we_ end up starkers. It’s more of Jack ending up without clothes and me attempting to get his arse out of trouble. In the process, my clothes seem end up some place unfortunate in the process…”

“Like the time your pants were found in the mistress’s dressing room?” Jack offered.

“I believe those were your pants they found after you tried shagging one of the principals in the dressing room,” John leaned back in his chair, smirking at the memory.

“Ah yes! Nothing like a good horizontal pas de deux in a dressing room,” Jack sighed wistfully. “Or in that case, pas de tois.”

“And on that note,” Rose said quickly. “We should probably head up for Donna’s choreography. I don’t think she’d much fancy us bein’ late.”

“Nothing John and Jack can’t fix by taking their clothes off,” Mickey snorted. The group dissolved into fits of laughter again.

 

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Unfortunately, Donna was not the one running the choreography that afternoon, and much to Jack’s dismay, neither was he- head ballet mistress, Renee Poisson, was running the lesson. Rose heard Jack and John both curse.

Renee Poisson was originally a principal ballerina with the Paris Opera Ballet. When her outrageous demands were not met, she left the company for ‘bigger and better things’. She took over the position as ballet mistress at Tardis when the regular head ballet mistress, Gwen Cooper, was off on maternity leave.

In Renee’s defence, she really was a magnificent dancer with looks to match. However, she knew that she was one of the world’s greatest dancers and thought of everyone to be beneath her.

“And I was having such a nice day,” Rose groaned. She turned to make another comment to John and the others when she felt his fingers slip through her own. Rose watched as he swiftly disappeared through the small crowd of principals and out the door.

“Where’s he off to in such a hurry?” Rose whispered to Jack as Renee began her usual long-winded speech introducing herself and proclaiming why everyone was lucky she was even there.

“He’ll be back, don’t worry,” Jack smiled down at her.

John didn’t come back.

Rose spent the four-hour class attempting to learn some of the most complicated and difficult lifts she had ever seen. For four hours she listened to Renee ask her if she was going to fall again. For four hours she had to tolerate Renee’s comments about having poor partnering skills. Luckily, for one of those four hours, Rose had Jack fill in for John as her partner. But that was short lived, the remaining three hours were spent marking out lifts on her own after Renee had told her it was pointless to practice with a partner that wasn’t her own. For four bloody hours Rose felt her anger simmer and finally build into a rage.

“Maybe it was that strange salad he ate at lunch?” Mickey asked once they had been released from what Rose decided was her own personal hell. “It looked a bit dodgy to me. Who thinks it’s a good idea to add bananas to a salad? He’s probably having a cuddle with a toilet.”

“Maybe he got lost? He seems like the type that would get distracted and wind up in another part of the studio,” Martha tried.

“Probably dressed in nothing but a tutu,” Mickey sniggered.

“I’m sure you’d like to see that Mickey Mouse,” Jack commented. “Not that I can blame you, John wearing very little should be classified as a seven wonder.”

“It sure is easy for you lot to have a good laugh,” Rose snapped.

“Don’t listen to ‘em, Rose,” Martha said kindly, wrapping an arm around her friend’s shoulders. “I’m sure he’ll be back tomorrow, along with Donna. And if not, you can give him an earful in the morning during warm up. I’ll even help you do it.”

Rose felt herself deflate a little. Martha was right; everything would be back to normal in the morning. It had been a long and eventful day; she would feel better after something to eat and an early night to bed.

“Yeah, suppose so,” Rose sighed. “ I could use some chips, anyone else?”

 

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Rose spotted John on the other side of the studio the next morning, but he vanished before Rose had the chance to talk to him.

Donna hadn’t returned yet either, so once again Renee was instructing them on lifts. She had Jack kicked out of the class saying that he wasn’t needed and could find a more productive use of his time, and once again, Rose was left to learn lifts on her own.

This went on for the next two days. Rose had completely fallen behind on the lift choreography and was subjected to the mocking of not only Renee, but other dancers as well. Whispers followed Rose everywhere she went: whether or not she was going to step down as Juliet, if she had frightened off the great Jonathon Smith, If Jonathon Smith really was the arrogant git that everyone said he was.

It wasn’t until the fourth day that Rose decided to wait outside the men’s dressing room, that she finally stopped him.

“Oh, Rose! How-“ John said, startled.

“Where the hell have you been?” Rose shouted.

“Listen, I’m-“

“No, you listen! Do you have any idea what I’ve been though this week? What Renee put me through? What _you_ put me through?”

“Rose, I can explain,” his voice was hesitant.

“Really? Can you really explain why you left me behind? Can you really explain why you’ve been such a shit partner?” Rose barked out a laugh that was filled with anything but humour.

John opened and closed his mouth a several times as he floundered for words.

“You two! In here. Now!” Donna yelled from across the hall.

Roe watched as John hung his head and paled slightly. Rose knew that had had just felt his stomach drop, because hers had just done the same thing. She followed John into the empty studio where Donna was.

It was one of the old rehearsal spaces that was rarely used anymore. There was no surround sound speaker system, so a dusty grand piano sat in the corner, along with a locked box that contained a record player.

“So, which one of you wants to tell me what all of the yelling is about?” Donna stood tall with her hands on her hips and her face hard. She reminded Rose of her mother. “SPILL!” she shouted when neither of them said anything.

“John’s been skippin’ out on me in Lady Fish’s class,” Rose said through gritted teeth.

“I wasn’t skipping out on you-“

“You completely left me stranded without a partner!” Rose growled.

“Rose, no that’s not…I’ve a…”

“No! You don’t get to leave me alone like that!”

“ENOUGH!” Donna bellowed. She then turned to John and slapped him full across the face leaving a nasty red mark. “I thought you said this wasn’t going to be a problem? This appears to be a big problem, Doctor! And you,” she rounded on Rose. “Why didn’t you come to me sooner? Now the lot of you are a full week behind on lift choreo! We open in a month! You open in a month, and can either of you do the required lifts?”

“But we haven’t even started yours and Jack’s choreography yet,” Rose said softly.

“It doesn’t matter!” Donna exclaimed. “You need to learn those lifts to be able to do the choreography! And you need to have the trust built up between the two of you!”

Donna blew out a deep breath and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Tomorrow is the photo-shoot that will plaster your faces across the bloody city. I do not see the star-crossed lovers I need before me. I do not see the chemistry and connection I saw that night in the studio. Fix it. Or I will be forced to replace two of the most passionate dancers I’ve ever seen. I will see you tomorrow evening.”

After the door clicked behind Donna, John and Rose were silent for a long time. Rose chewed the corner of her thumb as she watched John rub the back of his neck in what she assumed was a nervous gesture.

Rose knew they had a connection that first night in the studio, and it was through that connection that they were dancing Romeo and Juliet together. And perhaps she was being a little unreasonable in her reaction without even listening to him first. If she was being completely honest with herself, she didn’t just miss him as her dance partner, she missed the way her skin tingled wherever he touched her, and the way their hands just seemed to be drawn to each other and fit together perfectly.

“John, I-“ Rose said in unison with John saying her name. Rose felt the corners of her lips twitch at the hint of John’s sheepish smile.

John stepped towards her cautiously. Rose didn’t miss the way his eyes flicked to her lips; she felt her cheeks heat up. It was a sensation she never thought she’d miss. When John reached a distance that normally would have invaded her personal space had it been anyone else, he gently took her hand in his. He let her take the lead with entwining their fingers.

“Rose, can I explain?” He said looking down at their hands.

“I think that might be best,” Rose said with a slight smile that John mirrored.

“Okay, but not now,” he said, but at Rose’s glare, he quickly added, “meet me back here tonight at 9. I’ll explain and maybe we can go over those lifts?”

Rose’s face softened. “You aren’t going to leave me hanging? Go run off if something goes amuck?” John eagerly shook his head. “Alright, then I will see you back here tonight.”

John beamed a smile that left her a little dizzy. He pressed his lips gently to her knuckles while never breaking eye contact. “You know, to uhh…to renew that… erm… the chemistry and connection Donna was talking about…” It was John’s turn to blush. The light pink colour that tinted his cheeks made the freckles stand out even more. Rose felt a familiar fluttering in her stomach. “Until tonight then,”

Rose watched him bounce out the door like a little puppy.

“Yeah, tonight…” She mumbled, touching the spot on her hand where his lips just were.


	5. Brisé en Avant

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wee bit of angst in this chapter!  
> Thank you all for such kind words and encouragements! I cannot express how much it means to me!  
> Hope you enjoy! :)

After classes and rehearsals had finished, Rose rushed home for a quick shower before meeting back with John. Rose had suffered from anxious butterflies all day that she couldn’t seem to get rid of, and in all honesty, she didn’t exactly want to anyway. Throughout her morning classes, Rose shot little glances at John only to discover that had had been doing the same. When Rose was still in a good mood despite Renee’s comments, Martha broke down and asked her what was going on. Rose explained to Martha about her meeting with John that night, which was followed by oohs and awes from Jack and Mickey (earning them both a smack).

Just before nine, Rose padded down towards the old studio dressed in a light pink wrap skirt, matching legwarmers, and a grey shrug over her bodysuit. The sound of soft piano music spilled into the hallway from the open door. Quietly she peeked into the room and saw John sitting at the piano. She watched him for a few moments: the way his head swayed in time with the light melody, how the lighting danced across his features, how his artfully tussled hair fell across his forehead, the way his lower lip gave him a slight pout, how his tongue touched the roof of his mouth just behind his teeth every so often…

“Are you going to stare at me from the doorway all night, or are you at least going to come in and stare at me in here?” John asked without looking up.

“I...sorry…” Rose blushed and cleared her throat. “Don’t tell me you play piano too!”

John smiled as he held up both of his hands while the music continued to play. At Rose’s puzzled expression, he lifted up his mobile indicated that it was the source of the music. He scooted over offering her a seat next to him.

Rose dropped her bag next to the mirror and took a seat. The bench wasn’t very big, so their thighs brushed lightly, sending sparks up Rose’s spine. “I knew it couldn’t be you playing,” she grinned. “That would make you too good to be true.”

John’s smiled widened further and he slammed his hands down on the keys of the piano. Rose jumped and made to cover her ears, but John’s fingers flew across the keys playing the same tune from earlier, only it sounded a bit off key.

“Well I can’t exactly play a piano that’s out of tune, but that doesn’t mean I can’t play,” he said continuing to play the piano. Even though it was out of tune, he still managed to make it sound nice.

“You think you’re so impressive!” Rose laughed.

“I am so impressive!” John feigned offence.

“But seriously, is there anything you aren’t good at?”

“Weell,” John drawled. “I’m not the greatest at doing laundry. I don’t really get the whole separate and wash with alike colours thing.”

“Laundry?” Rose scoffed.

“What? I don’t see why we can’t just toss everything into one machine. Wash, dry, press, and fold. Badaboomba, done! It would save so much time and energy that could be spent doing something more exciting!”

Rose chuckled lightly, but sobered as John’s hand found hers.

“Apologizing, expressing what I’m feeling, not running away when things get too complicated,” John added seriously.

Rose watched John trail the fingers of his free hand across the keys of the piano, the off key notes tinkling softly every now and then. He was clearly lost in thought. Rose gently squeezed his hand comfortingly. John looked up; his eyes were full of emotion and sincerity. Rose also thought she saw a touch of fear. She offered a small but warm smile.

“Have you ever met someone you thought to be so perfect, so meant for you that you would drop everything and everything for them?” John asked softly when he finally found his voice. “Then only to have them hurt you in ways you never thought you would recover from?”

“Jimmy Stone,” Rose muttered with as much resentment and hatred as she could muster. Jimmy was a musician that Rose had fallen head over heels for. She fell hard and fast with nothing to cushion her landing. After about a year of showing up to rehearsals with bruises hidden under shrugs, almost leaving Tardis, and an empty bank account, she finally kicked him to the curb. She was still healing the wounds that were left internally and patching up her relationship with her mother. “Last time I saw him, he was cradling a broken nose courtesy of our very own Jack Harkness.”

John was silent for a while. Either he was processing what she had said or was too focused on his own Jimmy Stone. He looked out into the distance of the studio while absentmindedly rubbing circles on the back of her hand. Rose felt herself slide closer to him so that their legs were fully pressed against each other.

“Renee Poisson,” John said just above a whisper, his tone laced with bitterness.

“Renee Poisson?” Rose repeated as if she hadn’t heard him correctly. “As in Renee Poisson the head ballet mistress? As in Lady Fish her Royal French bitchness?” She saw John’s lips twitch at the last one.

“Well, I knew her as Reinette at the time, but yes, that Renee Poisson.”

“Wow,” Rose breathed after a beat because that’s all that she could say.

“Yeah…Jack warned me that she was here, but I didn’t think she would be teaching me. Teaching us…” John glanced up at Rose then quickly looked away.

“What happened? I…I mean if you don’t mind me asking…”

“Why did you fall for a useless git like Jimmy Stone? Tell me, was he actually blind or completely insane for hurting you?” John cleared his throat and pressed on. “Umm right so…Renee! We met at a gala for her company in France. I was just a Corps de Ballet member with Galifrey, so I was stuck walking around with a charity basket full of smelly old pointe shoes that were once worn by the greats of Galifrey. Reinette…erm…Renee was a first soloist with the POB and she spent nearly the whole night talking to me! I thought she was perfect. She was beautiful, an incredibly talented dancer, and we shared similar hopes and dreams.”

Rose felt the sharp pang of jealousy rip through her. Even though he spoke with hostility in his voice, Rose wondered if he still had feelings for Renee. After watching him run out of the studio that day with Renee like his pants were on fire, Rose would have thought that John couldn’t stand the woman. However, the way he was praising her seemed to tell a different story.

“She ended up getting me a guest artist spot with POB that year, which bumped me straight from Corps member to first soloist. After that, we started to see each other. She tried to get me to leave Galifrey to come and join her in Paris. I almost did, too.”

The envy Rose had been feeling was mixed with a dash of anger. “What stopped you?” Rose asked stiffly.

“It was a number of things. I was so happy that I became a soloist, that I was completely blind to her faults. She was vain, she was selfish, she was rude, she treated others as though they were all worthless, the list is endless. Jack had told me how awful she was from the start, saying that she seduced up and coming dancers, but I refused to believe him. My relationship with Reinette put a strain on my friendship with Jack, and we lost almost all contact with each other. He was there for me when my parents died, and I all but destroyed our friendship because I thought he was jealous. It wasn’t until I found out that she was actually engaged to a principal dancer named Charles and was the mistress of Louis Bourbon, the artistic director of POB as well, that I realized what I had done.”

John paused. It was as if he was letting Rose mull over what he had just told her or still trying to process what had happened to him. Rose thought it might have been a combination of both.

“Wow,” Rose said, still letting everything sink in.

“You said that already,” John whispered thickly.

“Yeah, that was a double wow,” Rose said. “Kinda gives a whole new meaning to ‘head ballet mistress’.”

John’s hand slipped from hers as he abruptly stood up and walked over to the rain-splattered window. His shoulders were slumped as he looked out at the darkened street below.

“John, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-“

“All I’ve ever done is run. I ran from my parents when they didn’t approve of me dancing, I ran from Jack when he told me about Renee, I ran from my dancing when I found out the truth about Renee,” John spat. Rose came up behind him and gingerly put a hand on his arm trying to offer him comfort. When he flinched, she snatched her hand back as if she’d been burned.

“And when Renee came back into my life, I ran from you,” John added more gently. “Rose, I’ve been such a terrible partner. I left you behind and I let you down. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“John, I-“

“I didn’t mean to hurt you Rose, I never wanted to hurt you,” John turned to look at her. His eyes threatened to pull Rose into their depths, drowning her. He took both of her hands in his. “Rose, ever since that first night I danced with you, I haven’t been able to get your smile out of my mind. Your sparkling eyes seem to find their way into my dreams. You are the sun that shines the light into my dark shadows, and like Icarus, I am drawn to you. But I’m so scared I’m going to get burned again.”

“Is this what you said to your _Reinette_?” Rose asked bitterly snatching her hands away from his. “Because I know first hand what it’s like to fly too close to the sun. It pulls you in, and even when it burns and bruises you, leaving scars that may never heal, you still keep flying too close, until it’s too late. Renee may have burned you, but I’m not gonna let you do that to me.”

“No. Not to you.” Rose saw something dark flash in John’s eyes, but when he blinked it disappeared. “I’ve never been this drawn to a person before. I’ve never felt this way…I’m saying too much aren’t I? I’ve got a bit of a gob, and it sometimes just starts running off on its own. Well, I say sometimes, I mean usually. It’s a fairly common occurrence.”

Rose felt something bloom to life in her chest that seemed to squash the fear and anger that had previously resided there. However, there was still a little nagging voice in the back of her mind that said not to buy into his story too much, that he was only here because he wanted Renee. Bile bubbled up in her throat at the thought.

“Rose?” John’s nervous voice jolted her out of her inner thoughts.

“Why did you come here? Why did you come to Tardis?” Rose blurted out.

“Donna is my cousin, although neither of us like to admit it very often. She is a very persuasive person and can strike the fear of God into almost anyone. I think it may be a superpower,” his hand automatically went to the cheek that Donna had left her mark on earlier that day, Rose felt a little twinge of guilt, but John was smiling fondly. “She decided that I had been moping around for far too long and that my early retirement from dance was a colossal waste of talent. At first I was apprehensive, but then I almost ran down a certain pink and yellow woman when she ran out into the middle of the street. When she whirled me into a stupor with far more than just her dancing, I knew I was going to like it here.”

“So you didn’t come back for Renee?” Rose asked in a small voice. She looked away from John, steeling herself for his response.

“I didn’t even know she was going to be here. Had I known, I probably wouldn’t have come. Rose, look at me,” John placed two fingers under Rose’s chin and gently tilted it up so she was looking at him. The confident glint that Rose normally saw in his eyes was replaced with a vulnerability she had never seen before. Her breath caught in her throat.

“But if I’d never come to Tardis, I never would have met you…” John leaned in, and very softly brushed Rose’s lips with his own. It was as if time all around them had stopped, yet it still seemed to be over before it began. By the time Rose had realized what was happening, John had pulled back, embarrassment tinting his ears bright pink.

“Rose I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have…I just thought…” Rose silenced him by placing a finger to his lips.

“Why don’t we go over some of these lifts, yeah?” She could see the pain of rejection flicker across his features. Rose moved her hand to cup his cheek; her pinkie finger grazed his sideburn. “And then we could maybe continue…this…if you want?”

A slow grin bloomed on John’s face and Rose tried to fight down the blush that she felt rising to her cheeks as John turned to place a kiss on the pale skin of her inner wrist.

“That, Rose Tyler, is a brilliant idea.”

“Just one more question,” Rose said quickly. John stiffened, his mouth pressed into a hard line, but he nodded shortly. “Why did Donna call you Doctor earlier?”

John gave a relieved chuckle. “I’ve never been particularly fond of my name. John Smith, Jonathon Smith, it’s so generic and boring, far too common for someone like me. When she and I were kids, she started calling me Doctor after she found out that’s what my parents wanted me to become. The name just kinda stuck. And I sorta liked it, had a nice ring to it. Although,” his voice dropped several octaves. “When you say John, it doesn’t sound half bad.”

“Well, in that case, John, Rose purred. “I think it’s about time you showed me your moves.”

“You want moves? I’ll give you moves,” John smiled smugly before wrapping his arms around Rose’s waist and effortlessly hoisting her into the air.

Rose squealed as her hands found John’s shoulder to steady herself, but it soon turned into a giggle when she realized she was safe in his strong, supportive arms. Relaxing, Rose raised her arms above her head, and gently leaned back.

Still laughing, John slowly lowered Rose to the ground. Rose couldn’t resist combing her fingers through John’s silky brown hair on the way down before they found their way back to his shoulders. His muscles were taught beneath his vest top.       Once Rose had touched down, John’s hand lingered on the small of her back, caressing the expanse of skin there. Rose inwardly thanked the creators of open backed bodysuits and their allowance of skin-to-skin contact. Her hands seemed to have a mind of their own, as they moved to the bottom of John’s neck where her finger’s scraped through the shorter hairs. John made a low noise of pleasure in the back of his throat that pulsed arousal through Rose’s veins.

After a brief warm up that was more flirting than stretching, John and Rose started to work on their lifts. Fortunately for Rose, John was fluent in almost all of the lifts, so they were able to spend more time practising the lifts rather than the marking and falling Rose had anticipated. Together they worked through the extensive list that Rose once thought impossible. They moved together as one, a mere extension of the other.

The playful flirting for earlier had progressed from tongue-touched grins and stolen glances to lingered caresses and deliberate touches. Something in the air had changed, the electricity from their first dance had returned full force, but there was something else Rose couldn’t quite place, something more than just heat of the moment passion.

Jack had always told Rose than the perfectly executed pas de deux should be like making love. Every touch, every look, every breath, every move, every encouraging whisper is designed to create absolute bliss. In a true pas de deux, the couple is so focused on each other and their own little bubble, that they lose track of all that is around them- the blinding lights, other dancers, the audience, all are lost to the pair dancing. Everything prior to the pivotal moment, everything that leads up to the pas de deux is foreplay that shows the promise of what’s to come. The push and pull that stokes the roaring fires of passion and desire within them until it becomes too much, that it feels like they will combust if they don’t immediately fall into each other’s arms.

Rose had always thought Jack referring to a pas de deux as sex on hardwood was a tactic to get into her knickers. However, as she let herself go in John’s arms, she began to understand the analogy. When she danced with Jack, they were a perfect match technically, always anticipating each other’s next move, but despite the connection and trust between them, it was nothing compared to what she felt when she danced with John.

“So we only have that bicycle lift left to go over, but it’s a tough one. No one seems to have it yet in class,” Rose panted. Both of them where covered in a thick sheen of sweat. Rose had long since ditched her shrug and legwarmers, she itched to divest herself of the clothing that remained as well.

“Yeah, can’t say I’ve done it many times. When it was first developed in the Soviet Union, it was only preformed by married couples because of the intimate contact. It was thought to be risqué and inappropriate for couples out of wedlock to perform,” John leaned towards her with that seductive smirk that doubled Rose’s heart rate.

“I…um…we…I think we should um…I think it’s getting a bit late and maybe we should get some matts for that one, yeah?” Rose stammered.

“Don’t you trust me?” John pouted, his bottom lip looking even more enticing than before.

“No, no, it’s just that it’s after midnight, and we have Donna’s photo shoot tomorrow…”

“Rose, I’m just teasing you,” John’s pout morphed into a smile that could have melted a glacier. He placed his hands on her arms, “and you’re right. Matt’s and a good night’s sleep are probably best. I’d be willing to wager that Donna would slap us both silly if we showed up covered in bruises and bags under our eyes.”

“I am so sorry about that slap,” Rose winced.

“Donna’s hit me a lot harder than that, believe me. She usually only does it when I deserve it, and today I deserved it.”

“Yeah, you really did.”

“Oi!”

“Come on, my feet are killing me. And I could use a bite to eat,” Rose laughed picking up her discarded bits of clothing. “You coming then?”

“No money,” John shrugged, but did so with a smile.

“What sort of date are you? Come on then, my treat,” Rose wiggled her fingers at John until he laced his with hers. “Oh, and John?”

“Yes?”

“I do trust you.”

“Well, I should hope so! We are partners, Rose Tyler! I will be lifting you above my head several times a day, quite literally single handily,” John teased. Rose bumped him with her shoulder. John tugged her along with him until their fronts were pressed together. Rose gasped.

“And I trust you too,” John smiled softly before pressing a quick kiss to Rose’s forehead. “Now, let’s get you fed!”           

 

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Rose saw the knowing smile that Donna wore as she and John walked onto the set of the photo shoot hand in hand. That smile only seemed to grow as she watched John and Rose fiddle with each other’s costumes. Hands smoothing over silky fabrics, lightly tugging on drawstrings, tucking strands of hair behind ears, all of which were simple gestures, but seemed to trigger flushed cheeks and skipping hearts from the both of them.

Donna’s instructions were pretty straightforward: act like two idiots who are disgustingly smitten, in other words, “just act normal”.

The set was made up of three different scenes: a small balcony that was draped in ivy, what looked to be a bed made a stone, and a plain white backdrop. They quickly progressed through their first scene by recreating their practiced lifts from the pervious nights. Which earned them an impressed grin from Donna.

The stone bed scene proved to be more difficult than Rose had anticipated. John and Rose started off struggling to stay in character after breaking out into a fit of giggles. Eventually Donna stepped in explaining that they had just lost the thing they loved most in the world. The only glimmer of hope to be reunited was death. John almost instantly sobered and cast a wide-eyed glance at Rose before slipping back into character. Rose silently wondered if the looks of fear and mourning he gave her or the way he gently caressed her were in character or not. Both of them needed to take a short break after in order to get their emotions in check.

Finally came the white background. Before Donna could instruct them further, Jack came into the space asking for her opinion on parts of the choreography. With an annoyed huff, Donna left Rose and John alone with the photographer.

John, who was standing behind Rose, wrapped one arm around her waist and the other up to her shoulder, effectively hugging her from behind. Rose leaned back and rested her head against his shoulder with a dreamy smile on her face. She gripped John’s arms to steady her shaking knees as a pleasant shiver worked its way through her body. Rose felt John smile against her skin and she let out a contented sigh. Both of them were completely oblivious to the flash and shutter of the camera. Just as she felt a series of feather light kisses trailing from behind her ear and along her jaw, Donna burst back into the room. John hissed in frustration as he pulled back slightly, but still kept his arms firmly around Rose.

Donna and the photographer conversed in hushed tones as they looked at the computer screen connected to the camera. With a pleased nod, Donna turned to look at the dancers in front of her.

“Okay, I think we got exactly what we were looking for! Maybe something even better than that! You two can head off with Jack to work on choreo. Thanks for your hard work!”

“What?” John asked, baffled.

“But we haven’t shot with this one yet,” Rose gestured behind her.

“Don’t worry, we’ve got the shot,” Donna said happily.

“Well, let’s see then,” John jumped forward, tugging Rose with him.

“Oh no you don’t! You can see them when everyone else gets to see them.”

John pouted, enticing a giggle from Rose. “Come on, we’ve got Jack’s choreography to go over.”

“Oi! Not before you change out of those costumes! And not in the same change room! I don’t need those clothes torn and soiled before we even make it on stage,” Donna added with a mischievous smirk.


	6. Grand Pas d’action

Announcements and posters had been going up for months, but it wasn’t until Rose was slipping into her gown that she fully let the excitement of the benefactor gala wash over her. The past two weeks had flown by in an exhausting blur. The company had moved from just learning Jack and Donna’s choreography to actually rehearsing it on stage, and costumes were in the final fitting stages allowing the dancers a glimpse of how their characters would look. Rose and the other principals barely had any time to sleep, but the night of the gala was an opportunity to relax and let their hair down while they mingled with dancers from across the globe.

“Rose, you look stunning!” Martha complimented from the doorway of Rose’s bedroom. Rose looked at her own reflection in the mirror. She had instantly fallen in love with the pale blue-white floor length chiffon gown. Pieces of the fabric criss-crossed at her upper back, leaving the lower half of her back exposed except for the decorative rhinestone straps that draped from the tops of her shoulders and attached to the top of her skirt, and the modest neckline offered only a hint of cleavage. Her hair was loosely curled with small pieces pinned back to frame her face.

“Not so bad yourself,” Rose smiled at her friend who had opted for a satin red wine coloured dress.

“Oh, this old thing?” Martha remarked innocently. “I do look pretty good, don’t I?” She twirled, allowing the dress to flair out around her feet.

“I’m sure Mickey would have to agree that you look a little bit more than _pretty good_ ,” Rose had noticed how Mickey and Martha had been spending more and more time together and how they often they seemed to look at each other when they thought the other wasn’t looking.

“You think so…I mean… John! What about John? I bet he won’t be able to take his eyes off you tonight,” Martha deflected quickly.

“Or his hands!” Jack stuck his head in the room with a wink. Mickey’s laughter could be heard from just outside.

“Okay!” Martha intervened. “I think the car’s here. We shouldn’t keep it waiting.”

Rose sighed. The truth was that John hadn’t progressed beyond that kiss the night they talked about Renee. He still constantly seemed to find an excuse to touch and hug her, and their hands always seemed to be entwined, but other than the occasional press of his lips to her forehead or her hair, they hadn’t moved any further. It frustrated Rose to no end. The constant push and pull between them was so powerful, Rose thought she would explode from the unresolved sexual tension. Jack’s pas de deux metaphor did not escape her. The only things that were keeping her from going insane were her roaming hands and fingers on an almost nightly basis, coaxing breathless moans from her lips that she muffled into her pillow.

“You coming, Rose?” Jack’s voice pulled her out of her thoughts.

“Yeah,” Rose said a little too quickly as she tried to fight the heat rising in her cheeks.

“Rose, you have absolutely nothing to fear. You look breathtaking, and I know John is going to be thinking the same thing,” Jack said warmly. “Among other things that probably aren’t appropriate to be thinking at such a posh function.”

“Jack!” Rose giggled.

“What? I see those looks you two have been giving. Practically undressing each other with your eyes. I’ve known you for years and him for even longer, neither of you can pull the wool over my eyes. Unless that’s what you’re into. Blindfolding can be a lot of fun!”

Rose couldn’t fight the blush of her cheeks anymore. “Come on, we’re gonna be late,” she laughed. Taking Jack’s offered arm, they left for the gala.

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The front foyer of Tardis’ performance center was decorated to the nines. Tardis had always thrown elaborate parties attracting the rich, the powerful, the respected, and some of the most renowned dancer to grace the stages of the world. This year however, the gala seemed to be taken to the next level. A plush dark blue carpet greeted the guests as they entered the building, and the towering columns were wrapped in lush green ivy. The railing of the grand staircase was also covered in the greenery, but was also dotted with fragrant white and pink flowers. The balcony that overlooked the foyer had been made to look like one only worthy of Romeo and Juliet. Waiters paraded around dressed in black and white carrying gleaming silver trays that held bubbling flutes of champagne and assortments of nibbles. The sweet music of Tardis’ orchestra swept through the space enchanting everyone around them. Above the music and the food, the ivy and the guests, hung an enormous crystal chandelier that twinkled like stars in the night sky.

Rose stood beneath the sparkling crystals attempting to take in the beauty of everything around her. The brightly coloured gowns swirled around her like a sea of exotic birds, the aroma of the flowers and heavily perfumed guests enveloped her into a floral cloud, the laughter and chatter mixed with the clinking of glasses and melodic sounds of the orchestra provided the soundtrack to the whole experience.

“Blimey, you look beautiful!”

Rose spun around to see an awestruck John gaping at her. He had donned a tux and bowtie for the special occasion. His hair looked to be a bit more mussed up than usual, as though he had been running his hands through it repeatedly (Rose found herself wanting to do the same just to see if she could muss it up even more). The only thing that counteracted his appearance of dashing gala attendee was the pair of crisp black and white Converse. Rose had never seen anyone look so handsome.

“Really?” Rose smiled coyly. John, whose eyes were still taking her all in and mouth still slightly open, could only bring himself to nod. “ Well, I could say the same for you. Clean up quite nicely, you do.” John preened at the compliment and seemed to find his voice again.

“Come with me, there’s something I want to show you,” John’s eyes flicked down to her lips as he took her hand and began to pull her out of the room. However, before they got too far, Sarah Jane emerged from a crowd of people.

“Oh good, you’re both here,” she said happily. “Donna is waiting for you upstairs. She’s going to reveal your Romeo and Juliet photos before we eat and she wants you both up there to formally introduce you along with them.” She hurried off with a smile, presumably to take care of some of last minute organizations. For someone who was supposed to be retiring, Sarah Jane seemed to be as busy as ever.

John looked a little put out, but offered a gentlemanly arm to Rose. “Shall we?” Instead, Rose took his hand. John looked down at where they were connected and gave hers a warm squeeze before meeting her eyes again. They grinned at each other like loons until someone bumped into John’s shoulder and mumbled about dancers always getting in the way. In a child-like manner, John stuck his tongue out at the back of the man’s head.

They found Donna standing at the top of the stairs talking to Jack and Sarah Jane. Her royal purple dress caught the light as she laughed at something Jack had said.

“Speak of the devil, here’s our lovebirds now,” Jack smirked. Rose felt John’s hand twitch in hers.

“Ah, perfect!” Donna beamed before John or Rose could speak. “ Rose you look wonderful! Truly a sight to behold. And John you look…well it doesn’t matter as long as you’re with Rose, people will be looking at her anyway.”

“Oi!”

“Oh, I’m only kidding, Doctor! You two look brilliant, a right pair!” John and Rose looked at each other and, without thinking, Rose reached up and adjusted John’s bowtie then smoothed her hands down the front his jacket. She could feel his heart race beneath her hand. Donna cleared her throat loudly.

“Do I need to give you a moment, or can I get on with welcoming our guests?” John and Rose quickly broke away from each other. John gestured for Donna to carry on as he mouthed something to her that Rose didn’t quite catch. She did, however, catch Jack’s smirk.

Donna grabbed a flute of champagne before offering the tray to the rest of them. John handed Rose hers and when their fingers brushed she almost dropped her glass. She really needed to get a grip on a whole lot more than just her glass.

Donna tapped her glass to get the attention of the people blow. “I want to thank you all on behalf of The Tardis Ballet Company for attending this year’s gala!”

Rose was aware of Donna speaking. She knew that Donna was talking about their upcoming production of Romeo and Juliet, she knew that Donna was praising all of the hard work the company had been doing. Rose caught Martha and Mickey’s name at some point and clapped along with the rest of the crowd, but her mind was elsewhere. Elsewhere just so happened to be her lower back. She was focused on the sensation of John’s finger as they danced across the exposed skin just above the skirt of her dress. She could feel every ridge of his fingertip, every line of his palm, and the smooth edges of his freshly trimmed fingernails as they scraped softly against her skin.

“Rose,” John whispered in her ear, his warm breath tickling her cheek.

“Yes,” Rose breathed

“Donna just introduced us, we need to go forward and give a little wave,” Rose could hear the smile in his voice. The hand that was on her back, guided her up towards the railing where Donna was waiting.

“Once again,” Donna said, clearly suppressing a smile of her own. “I would like to introduce the pair that will open our spring season’s Romeo and Juliet: Rose Tyler and Jonathon Smith.”

The large kaleidoscope of people below applauded enthusiastically. Rose could just make out Martha and Mickey standing at the front of crowd. John and Rose politely raised their glasses in thanks.

As if on cue, a large banner unrolled above the entranceway they had all walked through. Rose gasped as she saw the oversized image of a stark white background with John wrapped protectively around her, his lips brushing against her jawline. They were so entranced by each other, so enchanted by the other’s spell; they had been completely unaware of the camera. Both of them whipped their heads towards Donna, questioning looks on their faces.

“I told you we got the shot,” Donna shrugged almost smugly as the crowd burst into applause again.

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Rose sat with Martha and Mickey on her left and John on her right. After Donna had shown the promotional images and presented the other principals that would be dancing the leads, they all moved into the theatre where they would enjoy a meal while watching performances from Tardis’ dance school and several of the schools from visiting companies. It was an opportunity for the students to be seen by other companies and potentially be offered apprentice positions. It also allowed for upcoming choreographers, including Jack, to get their work seen.

After the showcase, and after Jack had made his way back to their table where they all cheered loudly, speeches where made in honour of Sarah Jane. Eventually, the woman in question took the stage herself. Her heartfelt words were filled with humour and emotion as she called Tardis a universe of its own. It had welcomed her in as a student all those years ago and how it had always been there for her no matter what happened. When she spoke of how everyone at Tardis through the years had become her family, it resonated with Rose, and she felt her own eyes brim with tears.

The first day Rose had walked through the doors of Tardis, it had become her home, the start of her new life. When she was at her worst, her Tardis family was there to help her pick up the pieces, and when she was at her best, they were there to celebrate with her. Jack, Martha, Mickey, and Sarah Jane had been her family for years, and now one of them was moving on to start a new chapter of their life. A bittersweet tear finally broke free and rolled down Rose’s cheek.

“Hey, are you okay?” John leaned over to take her hand and placed it in his lap. Rose nodded silently and quickly wiped away any more tears that threatened to fall.

Rose’s hand remained in John’s. She felt her stomach swoop as he began to lightly trail his fingers up and down the inside of her arm. She suspected it was absentminded in an attempt to soothe her, which it did, among other equally pleasant things. However, it was also highly distracting. Heat pooled in her core as he scooted closer to her to get better access. His other hand moved to just above her knee where he gently kneaded the soft flesh there. That was definitely not absentminded. She bit back a noise of pleasure. With her free hand, Rose grabbed the hand that was on her leg and returned it to its owner’s leg and stilled the hand that was tracing designs onto her skin before placing her own shaking hand back in her lap. She could feel John’s eyes on her, but she kept her eyes forward, attempting to refocus on Sarah Jane. Rose managed to catch the tail end of her speech about never truly leaving Tardis. Rose jumped to her feet with the rest of the theater to applaud the former artistic director. Rose looked up at John through her lashes; he had a forced smile on his face and clapped stiffly along with the rest of the crowd. Shit. She downed her almost full glass of champagne and refilled it again.

After Donna came back to wish Sarah Jane all the best and to announce how much money they had raised, she invited all of the guests back into the foyer for desserts and dancing. Once again, John tried to pull Rose away, but they were intercepted by a tutting Jack Harkness. So reluctantly, John and Rose made their way into the front foyer.

The lights of the hall had been dimmed allowing for strings of fairy lights that were woven into the greenery to glitter whimsically. The orchestra was seated on a raised platform where they played dreamy melodies. Rose grabbed another flute of champagne as she watched John take a handful of petits fours from a passing waiter and pop them into his mouth one by one. Her eyes followed his fingers into his mouth as it cleaned what remained of the chocolate. A hint of his tongue could be seen as it darted out for one last taste in the corner of his mouth.

“What the hell are you two doing standing around?” Jack’s voice startled both John and Rose out of their separate thoughts.

“Just…you know…taking in the sights,” Rose replied when John didn’t.

“Both of you are dancers, so get out there and dance!” Jack gave them both a playful push towards the dance floor. “You’ll find the feet at the end of your legs. You may care to move them.” Rose sucked back the rest of her beverage and contemplated getting yet another.

At first their movements were stiff and awkward, neither of them wanting to get too close. It was nothing like their rehearsals for the past few weeks where they couldn’t keep their hands off each other. This man before her normally held her so close, her soft curves moulded to the angular plains of his body. Now, they were dancing like they were teenagers not sure where to put their hands.

“John, this is ridiculous,” Rose sighed.

“What-What’s wrong?” John dropped his hands nervously.

“What’s going on? We’ve been in positions that rival ones in most people’s bedrooms. Why are dancing around each other?”

“You pushed me away at dinner…so I just thought…”John quietly trailed off without looking at Rose.

“You thought what?”

“That you were rejecting me. That you didn’t want me-“

“That I was rejecting you?” Rose interrupted.

“You stopped me when we were at the table, and you wouldn’t come with me earlier,” he pouted, his ears starting to go pink. Realization hit Rose like a train. Oh John, if only he knew…

“Every time you asked me to come with you, we kept getting rudely interrupted. Trust me, I was hot on your heels both times. And as for the dinner table,” Rose paused to search for the right words. “Sarah Jane was giving her farewell speech, so I didn’t really think that she would have appreciated the noises I was this close to producing,” she felt her face heat up rapidly.

“So you-“

“Shut up and dance,” Rose laughed and tugged his lapels so she could wrap her arms around him.

After that, everything between them went back to their normal flirty banter. Their earlier uncomfortable movements transformed into their usual fluid and poetic motions. The faster paced songs were their opportunity to show off, laughing and twirling around each other. During the slower songs, John held her close, his sideburns rubbing against her cheek as he hummed the melody in Rose’s ear. The unique spicy yet sweet scent of John she had come to love so much, cocooned around her as she leaned her head on his shoulder.

Rose could feel John toying with the waistline of her dress. He walked his fingers along it and then would smooth his hand over the same path. Every so often Rose could feel his lips press against her hair in a gentle kiss. Rose retuned the favour by pressing her lips just above the collar of John’s shirt. He made a contented noise in the back of his throat.

“So, what was it that you wanted to show me earlier?” Rose asked after a beat.

John leaned back so he could look down at Rose. His pupils were slightly dilated and he smiled slowly. “Rose Tyler, I thought you’d never ask.” Fitting his fingers together with hers, John led Rose off the dance floor and through a door that would take them backstage.

They walked down the door-lined corridor in electrified silence. Rose’s senses seemed to be in overdrive: the clack of her heels on the tiled floor bounced of the walls, the feeling of John’s tux as it brushed the bare skin of her arm, the sound of their elevated breathing.

“So, what’s so special about prop storage room C?” Rose asked, as they stood outside the room in question.

“It’s not the room that’s special, it’s what’s inside it. That, and there is no lock on this room,” John smiled mischievously, pushing open the door and ushering Rose inside.

“I like various swords, broken nutcrackers, and fake flowers as much as the next person, but I’m not sure I see what’s so special.”

“Damn! Where is it?” John looked frantically around the room, rubbing the back of his neck.

“How about a tambourine?” Rose flicked one to emphasise her point. “Or perhaps Siegfried’s sparkly, glittery crossbow. Definitely the a prop that emphasizes manliness as he prances around some swans.”

John spun around to face Rose, his eyes lighting up, clearly finding what he was looking for. “Ah! Here it is!”

Very gently, John pressed his lips to Rose’s. Unlike the last time he kissed her, Rose didn’t hesitate to wrap her arms around his neck and eagerly return the pressure. It was chaste, both of them still testing the waters, but Rose couldn’t help the breathy moan that escaped her mouth as John lightly sucked on her lower lip.

“I now see what’s so special about prop room C,” Rose laughed leaning her forehead against John’s.

“You’ve seen nothing yet,” John nuzzled is nose against hers. But before they could get wrapped up in each other again, a throat cleared from the doorway.

“Now that you two have resurfaced for air, we’re about to head out to the after party,” Jack said, unable to contain his grin. At John and Rose’s matching glare, his grin only widened further. “Maybe next time, pick a room with a lock,”

“Or at least close the bloody door!” Mickey’s voice echoed from the hallway.

“Or don’t…not a bad show if you ask me,” Jack winked.

“OUT!” Rose and John yelled together.


	7. Grand Pas de Deux

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All of your kind words and encouragements make my heart soar, I truly cannot thank you enough!  
> I have borrowed borrowed a line from the film The Philadelphia Story as well as scene from the film Center Stage.

The music was obnoxiously loud, vibrating through Rose’s bones. The colourful strobe lights were blinding, casting otherworldly glows and shadows on the clusters of people grinding on each other. The scent of sweat and alcohol was a heady cocktail that wafted through the air, fuelling everyone in the nightclub.

Jack’s idea of an after party took place at some underground club that Rose had missed the name of. It wouldn’t have been her first pick for an after party with its pulsing music from unseen speakers and patrons packed in from wall to wall, but all of that was blurred into the background. Between liquor that flowed freely through her veins and the tall silhouette of a man at the bar with gravity defying and frankly magnificent hair, Rose was otherwise distracted.

Rose and the others had all changed from their formal gala attire into something more suitable for an after party. The green dress she wore allowed her bare legs to touch the dark leather couch where she sat next to Martha and Mickey. They were waiting for John and Jack to return with what was probably their third round of drinks. They all were drinking the club’s signature drink at Jack’s recommendation. The beverage left Rose feeling hypersensitive: the way her things stuck to the couch beneath her, the beads of moisture that slid down the back of her neck, the way her hand felt unusually empty. She rubbed her fingers together in an attempt to fill the void. She was used to champagne. Champagne was like a bubbly caress, this drink was a heavy mist before her eyes.

“Did someone order another round of the nectar of the Gods?” Jack’s shout sounded over the roar of the music and the crowd. Rose grabbed the green beverage in front of her and took a long swig.

“Thirsty?” John purred in her ear. His closer then expected proximity caused her to jump, slopping her drink down her front.

“Shit!” she gasped as the icy liquid coated her chest.

“Sorry, Rose!” John said taking the almost empty glass from her and trying to blot her dress with a tiny bar napkin.

“I know you wanted get the girl wet John, bit I didn’t think-“ Jack was cut off by the glare from John. Mickey and Martha could no longer hold in their laughter. It may have been the alcohol, but Rose found herself giggling right along with her friends. Soon Jack and John had joined in as well.

“Now that the good Doctor here has got me all sticky,” Rose said trying to catch her breath. “I think I’m gonna go clean myself up,” she gestured to her now sticky chest.

Just as she was about to enter the ladies room, familiar cool fingers brushed her arm.

“I brought you a cloth,” John said, holding up what looked like a handkerchief. He looked a bit embarrassed and from the darker splotches on his shirtsleeves, Rose had managed to splash him as well. Despite being steps away from the bathroom, Rose reached out and took the cloth with a smile. She didn’t miss the almost disappointed look in John’s eyes.

The cloth had been dampened with warm water and faintly smelled of John. She resisted the urge to bring it to her face and inhale deeply.

“I’m really sorry about your dress,” John said as Rose continued to clean herself up.

She gave him a tongue touched grin, “Oh don’t worry about it. Green on green isn’t so bad,” she handed the handkerchief back to John.

“You erm…you missed a spot…” John gestured vaguely to her torso. “May I?” Rose nodded with a smile. John stepped in close enough that she could feel the heat radiating off him. Very gently, John tilted her chin up with his fingers. She felt his lips come in contact with her neck. Rose inhaled sharply when she felt his tongue dart out for a taste. John quickly backed away, putting too much distance between them.

“Rose, I’m-“

“I think it is _you_ who missed a spot,” Rose said huskily, pointing to her neck again. A slow smirk crossed John’s lips and a hunger darkened in his eyes. He stepped back towards her and began to pepper feather light kisses along her neck. Rose couldn’t help the moan that escaped her as John nipped at her soft flesh and soothe it with his tongue. Desire ripped through her like wildfire, the alcohol only serving to accelerate it. John’s hands moved to the hem of Rose’s dress. He toyed with the seam as Rose plunged her own fingers into his luscious hair. This only seemed to spur him on further. He pressed his pelvis in to hers, anchoring them to the wall. Craving more friction, Rose ground her hips into Johns. She was rewarded with a deep moan as she felt his budding arousal.

“What the hell is going on here?” an angry male voice jostled Rose and John out of their bubble. Rose felt all of the colour drain from her face almost instantly; she would recognize that voice anywhere. The image of sand coloured hair and steely grey eyes crossed her mind, along with the last time she had seen it when he was covered in his own blood.

“Jimmy,” Rose whispered. John whipped around to see a muscular man staring down at them. Rose watched John’s fists clench tightly at his sides.

“I asked you a question, mate,” Jimmy spat out the last word. “What the fuck are you doing with my girlfriend?”

“Ex-girlfriend,” Rose enunciated each syllable.

Jimmy ignored her and continued to stare daggers at John. “Still waiting for an answer.”

“I don’t believe it’s any of your business what your _ex-girlfriend_ gets up to,” John replied calmly, but kept his posture rigid. “Why don’t you scamper off to do whatever it was that you were doing before you so rudely interrupted. Judging by your dingy apron and smell of greasy sweat, your music is really working out quite well for you. I didn’t know that they allowed live bands to play in kitchens! This place must be posher than I thought.”

Rose watched as Jimmy’s face contorted in rage. “Okay, enough. Jimmy, I meant it when I said I never wanted to see you again. Have a nice life,”

“Or you know, don’t,” she heard John mumble beside her.

“Come on John, the other’s are probably wondering where we got off to this time,” Rose pried open John’s fist to lace his fingers with hers. However, before they got to far, she heard Jimmy yell behind them.

“Maybe you’ll actually keep this one interested and he’ll stick around. Maybe he actually knows how to keep a woman in his place, I mean you’re already puttin’ out for him in club hallways, more than you ever did for me.”

A stormy look flashed in John’s eyes as he rounded on the other man, his knuckles white from clenching.

“John, it’s not even worth it. Let’s just go, yeah?” Rose said, placing a hand on John’s shoulder.

“You always were a whore Rose. Spreading your legs for every pretty boy that comes your way. What happened to Jack-“His words were cut short by the loud crack of Rose’s hand coming in contact with his cheek.

“You know what? Forget about having a nice life, enjoy washing dishes and cleaning up toilettes, Jimmy. It’s where you belong,” she tried to ignore her now burning palm. Taking John’s hand in her uninjured one, she stormed back to the couches where the other’s sat.

“Well, well, well, look who finally came back from the bathroom,” Mickey teased.

“Mussed up hair and flushed faces, I wonder what could have caused that?” Jack added. Rose ignored them both and zoned in on the strong green drink in front of her. She downed the beverage letting the tartness and alcohol numb her.

“Whoa, whoa, slow down there,” Jack protested as Rose reached for another cocktail. He looked at John, “What happened?

“Had a little run in with the infamous Jimmy Stone,” John replied taking a deep gulp from his own glass.

“What?” Mickey, Martha, and Jack said in unison.

“Don’t worry,” Rose smiled smugly, her words slightly slurring. “Gave ‘im the slap I should have ages ago! What are all sitting around like log bumps for? Let’s dance!” Barely giving John enough time to suck back the remainder of his drink, Rose clumsily tugged him to his feet and onto the dance floor.

Rose’s mind was buzzing and she felt a bit dizzy as John spun her out only to pull her back into his arms. It wasn’t surprising when she slumped into him giggling drunkenly. With more effort than usual, John caught her.

“Easy there,” John chuckled in her ear. His breath was heavy with the scent of the beverages they had been knocking back. “How much have you had?” Rose only laughed because in truth, she really didn’t know.

“How’s your hand?” he asked, taking Rose’s palm and carefully ran his fingers over the still red skin.

“The pain is muted by the satisfaction of finally slapping the fucker,” Rose beamed. John’s eyes widened at her choice of words, but he smiled and brought her hand to his mouth and kissed the palm. Rose felt herself heat up all over again.

The rest of the night flew by in a fuzzy haze. The warmth of John’s body wrapped around her as she pressed up against him, cursing the amount of layers that were still there. She attempted to grind her hips with his again, but it was probably more of a falling action. Despite all of this, John still held her close, nestling his nose into her hair.

TBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTB

Unwanted sun filtered through the blinds poking Rose from her slumber. She was almost certain that her tongue had turned to sandpaper and that she was bleeding from the ears. She wanted nothing more than to be swallowed by her cocoon of starchy sheets. Wait. Her bedding was far from starchy and when did she lose her curtains in lieu of blinds?

Rose’s eyes flew open as she threw herself into a sitting position. Groaning at the way it made her head and stomach feel, she gingerly reclined back against the fluffy pillows to get her bearings. The bed was draped in a dark blue duvet and caramel coloured sheets, the furniture was made from a pale wood with copper accents, and there was a big window with the blinds half open, letting in the offending sunlight. Everything looked almost brand new. Rose came to the conclusion that she was not in her own bedroom. Looking around, she saw that the other side of the bed was mostly made, but it looked as though someone had been propped up against the headboard. Fear struck her when she looked down and saw she was wearing a men’s jim-jam shirt. In light of this new evidence, she decided that this was definitely not her bedroom.

Rose sprang to her feet, adrenalin pumping through her. She darted through a door that she guessed led out to a sitting area. The flat was minimally furnished with just the necessities. A few boxes of varying sizes were piled along the wall.

“Tea?” a groggy voice startled her. John was seated at a small table clad in a worn t-shirt and the bottoms that looked like they went with the top Rose was wearing. Rose nodded and slid into the chair opposite John, trying to pull down the hem of the shirt as much as possible. She muttered her thanks when he nudged the tea and a mug towards her.

Rose eagerly took a sip and let the drink wash over her like an elixir of life. She sighed gratefully and looked up at the man across from her. The steam from his mug had fogged up the bottom half of his black-rimmed glasses, but it couldn’t obscure the bags under his eyes that screamed hangover. He smiled weakly at her.

“How are you feeling this morning?” John asked hoarsely.

“Like death kicked my arse,” Rose said. “What the hell did we drink last night?”

“No idea,” John rubbed his eyes beneath his glasses (which Rose was beginning to grow quite fond of). “It was green. It made me feel green. There was a whole lot of green. I just know I never want to drink again.”

Rose nodded mutely before a thought hit her. “Did we…”she gestured between them. “Erm…did we um, you know…?”

“NO!” John said quickly, and then laughed. “No, no, no, definitely not. No way.”

“Oh, okay,” Rose said sadly, looking down at her hands. “I didn’t realize I was four no’s, a definitely not, and a no way. But I’m glad we cleared that up before I made a fool of myself even more. So that’s…yeah…We’ve got a lift class again today, so I’m just gonna go. See you later.” Rose felt her face heat up; the earlier relief from the tea had gone, her stomach churning with John’s words of rejection.

“Oh no, no, no, no. Rose that’s not what I meant!” John was up beside her in a single stride. “It’s very far from what I meant, I would very much like to… erm… anyways… We were both very drunk last night. You were borderline comatose, and that’s not really my thing. I wanted to take you home and put you to bed, but I realized I hadn’t the foggiest where you lived. So I just brought you back to my new flat. I thought it would be okay.”

“Did you undress me?” Rose looked down at her stripped shirt and then confirmed that it did indeed belong with the pants bottoms John was wearing.

“Your dress was still wet and sticky from your drink, so I gave you one of my shirts to sleep in. And you were out like a light, so I sort of helped you change. I swear I didn’t see anything,” John awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck. When Rose cocked an eyebrow, John’s ears turned a deep shade of pink. She felt her lips quirk up.

“Thank you,” Rose pulled John into a hug. He made a happy noise in the back of his throat as he retuned the motion.

 

TBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTB

 

Rose and John weren’t the only ones in the studio who looked like he living dead. Martha was bundled in what looked like eight sweatshirts and Mickey was on is fourth bottle of water. Even Adam and Christina looked like they had seen better days. The only one who seemed to be unaffected was Jack. He sat off to the side stretching with a boyish grin on his face.

“Look what the cat dragged in,” he chuckled.

“I feel like I was hit by a train,” Mickey groaned, Martha nodding in agreement.

“What about you two?” Jack added slyly to John and Rose who were holding hands. “Care to share with the rest of the class?”

“Vowed never to drink again,” Rose said with a sigh as she began to put on her pointe shoes.

“Well you might want to revoke that vow,” Martha quipped, looking over towards the door. Renee, in all of her slicked and pinned glory, had glided into the room. A satisfied glint in her eyes as she looked around at her hung-over principals.

Rose looked at the others with knitted brows. They were in the final stages of rehearsals; they had learnt all of Jack and Donna’s choreography. So why in the hell was Renee there? And why did she look so smug. This could not be a good sign. Rose snuck a glance at John. He had frozen with his shoe halfway on, and was staring wide-eyed at the ballet mistress. Rose knew he was itching to run, so she gave his hand a gentle squeeze. He acknowledged her with a small smile and seemed to relax.

“Donna thought it would be cruel to hold a rehearsal after last night’s gala,” Renee began louder than she needed to be. The entire room cringed a little at the volume of her French laced voice. “But I told her that these are principals! They will not want to have a day off! There is no time for a day off, especially this close to a performance. Besides, if all of you are such magnificent dancers, you should be able to dance in your sleep.”

“Why don’t we just sleep then?” Martha said just loud enough for their little group to hear. The others sniggered.

“So I thought I would check on all of your lifts on this fine, fine morning! Why don’t we start off with the bicycle lift?” Renee said even louder than before.

“This is one of those days the pages of history teach us are best spent lying in bed,” John grumbled leading Rose to the center of the floor. Unfortunately, Renee must have heard his little comment, and her head snapped towards them.

“Jonathon, my angel! Why don’t you and I demonstrate a perfectly executed lift like we used to,” Renee said, her voice dripping with a faked sweetness.

“You know I would love to,” John smiled. “I think Rose and I have almost perfected the lift. I’m not sure how you are going to do it without a partner though.”

“Come now, my sweet angel. We used to dance in such harmony.”

“You know, I think I’m going to have to pass. I think I’ve left Rose fend for herself for far too much recently.” John said, tucking Rose into his side and splaying a hand across her hip.

“Didn’t seem to bother you before. The child is used to not having a partner. What’s one more time going to do to her?”

“Exactly, I was a terrible partner and a person to Rose, and it won’t happen again. As lovely as she is alone, a pas de deux is much better with two,” he said the last bit while looking down at Rose with sincerity and admiration. His tone was warm and echoed the words of the first night they had danced together (Rose couldn’t help the smile that tugged at her lips at the fond memory). But his tone turned icy as he turned back to Renee. “You know who is equally talented? Well maybe not equal, but probably very close to? Jack. He did do a lot of the choreography, so what better person so show us how to do a perfect bicycle lift.”

Renee looked as though she had swallowed something bitter. “Jack, get over here. The rest of you get to your positions, NOW!” she barked.

None of them were really warm enough to be doing such a difficult lift, but they knew better than to argue further. Rose and John had managed to execute the lift with very few hiccups not long after they had moved on stage. So they managed to get through the motions well enough, even if it did take them far more effort than usual.

Rose sat perched precariously on John’s hand high above his head, while his free hand held her knee in place. She knew she was safe in trusting John not to drop her, but she still wavered trying to maintain her balance.

“STOP!” Renee shouted. “Your balance, your centers, and your hands are all off. And don’t even get my started on your pathetic feet. You need to look effortless and graceful, not like hung-over cows. Stay put while I show you how it should really look.”

Clearly, Jack wasn’t as unaffected by the previous night’s festivities as Rose had originally thought. She watched as Renee ran at Jack with very little warning and as he attempted to hoist her into the air with a grunt. He managed to get her a few feet off the ground before it became too much and his wrist gave out. He roughly set her on the ground. John and Mickey snorted and gently set their partners down, stabilizing them at the hips.

“Again! Everyone back up!” Renee snapped.

“Yes Mistress, right away Mistress,” Jack panted, Rose bit back a laugh.

This time when John caught and lifted Rose up above him, they did so with much more ease and balance. Jack and Renee on the other hand struggled to the point of Jack almost sending Renee crashing to the ground.

“Careful with that one, you break it, you bought it,” Rose said from high above the ground. Mickey and Martha burst out laughing. However, their feet were planted firmly on the ground. Rose’s feet, on the other hand, were not. So when John started to shake with laughter, Rose found herself rocking dangerously forward. Her heart stopped as she felt herself beginning to fall. Luckily, John felt her slipping and he quickly caught her in a bridal carry as if it were nothing. They smiled at each other as he lowered her safely to the ground before doubling over in laughter, tears coming to their eyes.

“ENOUGH! You,” Renee screeched at Rose. “Get out of my class this instant!”

“Fine by me. I wasn’t the one who couldn’t keep my balance anyway,” Rose snorted getting fed up with the way Renee treated her. The others started to laugh again.

“You think me almost breaking my neck is amusing? Fine all of you can join Miss Tyler here as she washes the all of the mirrors in the teaching and old studios,” Renee finished with a satisfied smirk at the outraged express on Rose’s face.


	8. Rose Adagio

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm terribly sorry for the delay! Thank you to all of those who have patiently waited and stuck with me! I hope this chapter will be worth the wait! More inspiration borrowed from the film Center Stage. Please note the rating change! You are all stars! :)

“How many mirrors are in this place?” Martha asked.

“Eight mirrors per studio, five studios: forty mirrors,” John said, ripping down the dusty sheet that was concealing the offending object.

“That’s a lot of mirrors,” Martha breathed.

The mirrors in the old studios had a thick layer of dust clouding them despite the fact that they had been draped in sheets. Unlike the two teaching studios they had just finished, these mirrors were going to require a lot more than a spray on glass cleaner.

“You guys really shouldn’t have to be stuck here with me cleaning these,” Rose dipped her sponge into the sudsy water.

“Yeah, well you shouldn’t be stuck her cleaning the mirrors that no one uses anymore, when you did nothing wrong” Jack snorted.

“Besides, stuck with you? That’s not so bad,” John said warmly.

“Yeah?” Rose tried to trump down the eager hope that saturated her voice.

“Yes.” John replied without any hesitation. The two of them smiled softly at each other, completely oblivious to the knowing grins shared by the others.

The five of them methodically washed the grimy mirrors so that they slowly began to show the clear reflections of the people washing them. Their sweatpants and comfortable shirts were dotted with splotches of water drops.

By the time they had reached the final studio, the sky outside had become a blanket of black dotted with little stars. Rose’s fingers seemed to be in a permanent puckered and pruned state as Jack yanked down the last sheet that hid the mirrors, sending them all into a coughing fit.

“This must be one of the original studios, way back when Tardis first started. Just look at that piano,” Martha observed after she had recovered.

“Yeah, and I’ll bet that box over there in the corner houses one of those old record players,” Mickey remarked.

It was at these words that Rose recognized where they were. This was the studio where she and John had shared their first kiss. She recalled his plump lower lip brushing against her, how her skin itched for more contact, and the way desire gathered within her as John held her body close to his. She could still picture the way his long fingers danced across the ivory keys of the piano, and how she was actually jealous of the piano, wishing that he would preform those exact movements across her skin.

“Too bad the piano’s out of tune,” Rose sighed. John smiled at Rose’s wistful words, and she could tell that similar memories from that night were also crossing his mind.

“And how exactly would you know that, Miss Tyler?” Jack smirked.

“Because when we were-“ John’s mouth clicked shut at the sight of Jack’s smirk spreading to Martha and Mickey.

“Of course it’s out of tune! Just look at all of the dust that’s piled on it,” Rose tried.

“Huh, so it is,” Jack said, sounding a little defeated. Rose relaxed in relief. It wasn’t as though she and John had really done anything, but she knew Jack would think otherwise. So she really shouldn’t have been shocked when Jack continued to pry.

“But it seems to me that there are a few spots that aren’t covered in dust,” Jack said, continuing his investigation. “Particularly these two bum shaped spots on the bench. Oddly enough, they appear to be in the exact shapes of the asses belonging to our very on John ‘the Doctor’ Smith and Rose Tyler.”

Rose fought very hard to control the colour that was rising in her cheeks. Pretending to be unfazed by the whole ordeal, she drenched her sponge in the bucket and slapped it against the mirror.

“Furthermore,” Jack continued on in his best impression of a stuffy detective. “I conclude that the two of you were sitting exceptionally close. Practically on top of each other, or perhaps that’s what became of your little piano session?”

“You can really tell all of that by looking at the imprints our arses made in the dust?” John asked in disbelief, wringing out a sponge of his own.

“I’ve had many wonderful years to ogle your damn fine arses, I’m practically a connoisseur. That, and you all but just admitted that it was your arses that were on that bench,” Jack puffed out his chest at the wide-eyed stare John gave him. “Do you think I could make it as a detective once I retire from dancing?”

“You know what I think?” John stated, dipping his sponge back into the bucket and letting the excess trickle out above. “I think you’d get all washed up.” John threw the saturated sponge at Jack’s head, an arch of water droplets trailing behind it. However, Jack was too fast for it and managed to duck. The bright yellow water bomb continued on it’s path of destruction until it came to a sudden stop…with the side of Rose’s face.

The impact of the spongy projectile created a fan of watery castoff on the mirror in front of its victim. The direct hit on Rose’s head had shocked her, permitting wayward splatters to enter her mouth. She didn’t need to look at her reflection to assess the damage. The tepid water dripped down, soaking the one side of her thin t-shirt to the point of her leotard becoming visible. There was a small puddle forming on her shoulder where drops from her hair collected. She could hear the plops of the residual water dipping into a pool that formed at her feet. She heard John gasp and Martha and Mickey beginning to laugh. Eyes still closed from the blast of water, Rose bent down to pick up the sponge before rigidly turning towards the assailant.

“Now Rose, lets not do anything too rash,” Rose’s eyes snapped open at John’s pleading tone. She picked up her full bucket of water and handed the sponges off to Jack as she passed him on her way over to John.

“That sponge was meant for Jack, I swear. I’m sorry; I’m so sorry Rose! Please don’t do this. If you think about it, it’s really Jack’s fault,” John held up his hands in surrender as he backed away. Rose continued to stalk him as if he were her prey. “If Jack hadn’t moved, if he had taken the hit gallantly like a gentleman, you wouldn’t-“ he was cut off when one of the sponges Jack was holding, collided with his chest, darkening his light blue shirt with a perfect outline of the sponge.

“Thank you for showing me what it looks like to be a gentleman and gallantly accept a sponging, Sir Jonathon,” Jack cackled with a mock bow.

Rose had taken the opportunity of John being distracted to signal Martha and Mickey to come up behind John. At Rose’s nod, Martha and Mickey emptied their full sponges over John’s head. John gasped as the water cascaded over his head and face, drenching him. The rest of them erupted into a roar of laughter. John’s normally wild and magnificent hair sat limply against his forehead as the water dripped down his handsome features.

“Now John, if you hadn’t have thrown that sponge in the first place, I wouldn’t have had to enlist Mickey and Martha, and you wouldn’t be all wet,” Rose said innocently with a tongue-touched grin. “So if you think about it, it’s really your fault.”

“I’ll show you whose all wet,” John growled. His eyes pupils had almost completely engulfed the brown irises, making him look almost animalistic. Rose felt a familiar heat surge through her. Wetness gathered between her thighs as she watched John’s chest rise and fall with each breath he took. She bit her lip and watched as John’s eyes darkened even further.

“I think the two of you need to cool off,” Jack’s humour laced voice startled them just in time for Mickey and Martha to squeeze sponges above Rose and John’s head. Rose squealed and jumped back.

“Just whose side are the lot of you on?” Rose wiped the water from her eyes.

“We go where we are most needed,” Martha said seriously.

“Modern day super heroes, we are,” Mickey added gleefully.

“In that case,” John said slyly. “I think Jack has been given far too many commands without any consequences. He’s looking a bit too dry.”

The Great Sponge War of Tardis may not have lasted years, or even an hour, but it was a battle that would go down in history. Wet torpedoes found their marks, leaving casualties in their wake. However, the victims were unfazed by the blows, fuelled on by their soaked shirts and dripping hair. The battle cries of joyful laughter would haunt the studio space for decades to come. The long neglected mirrors were once again forgotten in the warzone in favour of cheek-splitting smiles. Giggles and squeals of delight became the soundtrack as the battle raged on. It wasn’t until buckets were empty and sponges were left unattended in the corners, that all parties finally signed a peace treaty as they slumped to the floor with heads pillowed on shoulders and contented smiles lighting their faces.

After realizing they had created a small oasis in the studio, it was decided that they would quickly dry mop the excess water on the floor before calling it a night. All of them were burnt out from the night before and the sponge fight, so Rose volunteered to return the mop and bucket to the cleaning cupboard before heading home herself.

Rose bade farewell to her friends (lingering only slightly with John), then made her way to store the cleaning supplies. Chills set in whilst she walked down the cool hallway. Her clothes were still drenched from the water that was thrown on her, so once she had stashed the mop and bucket away, she made a quick detour towards one of the costume rooms where she thought she might find some extra warm-up clothes or at the very least, toss her current clothes into the dryer. She had let her hair down out of her bun when they had begun mopping, so it was cascaded down in mostly dried waves.

“Rose?” John stood a few feet away from her, his voice soft.

“Hello,” Rose smiled. Despite looking waterlogged, John still looked gorgeous.

“Hello,” he beamed, stepping closer.

“I thought you had already left?” Rose asked, trying her best to keep her eyes from wandering down to observe how his wet shirt clung to his torso.

“Well, I thought I would continue on with my gentlemanly acts and gallantly see if you needed a hand putting away the mops and such.”

“And dumping water all over me, where does that fit in with your gentlemanly acts?” Rose teased.

“Every knight has a few tarnishes in his shining armour, chinks, if you will.”

“Chinks eh?” Rose edged close enough to John that they were almost touching, warmth from his body radiated out and leeched into her skin. She watched his Adam’s apple bob as he tried to swallow and felt pride swell inside her chest.

“Oh you know, cracks, chinks, weaknesses,” John said, his suddenly voice low as he tucked a loose strand of hair behind Rose’s ear. When his hand returned to cup her cheek, she leaned into his touch, placing her hand over his. There was that look again; John’s eyes were so heated they could melt glaciers. Rose’s stomach swooped at the sight.

“John,” she began, but shivers wracked through her body. Oh right, she was supposed to be getting dried off and warmed up.

“Cold?” John asked, the heat in his eyes was replaced with concern as he looked at Rose’s still wet appearance.

“A bit yeah,” Rose chuckled looking down at her now purple tinted fingernails. “Dumping water all over a girl will do that.”

John looked down sheepishly and rubbed the back of his neck, which Rose now understood as a nervous gesture. “Yeah, that might do it…I could help erm…warm you up, that is…”

“Well, I was just about to use the dryers in here,” Rose gestured to the door that led to the costume room. As she did so, she saw a crestfallen look arise on John’s face. “But, you see the thing about dryers, is that they only work on clothes…” She really hoped that he would catch on to what she was saying.

“See, that’s what I was talking about when I said there should be…oh,” there was the spark of realization Rose was looking for.

“Oh?” Rose fluttered her eyelashes. She reached behind herself and fumbled with the doorknob before John’s hand enclosed over hers to help open the door.

“Oh,” John replied simply, a slow smile spreading across his lips that could only be described as sinful. Rose felt her heart double in tempo.

Once both of them were inside, fluorescent lighting flicked on and Rose kicked the door shut behind them (then double checking to make sure that it was indeed shut this time around). The room wasn’t very big; it was mostly used for washing show costumes and warm-up garments, and occasionally storing some of the older pieces that could be salvaged to make new ones. It smelled of laundry detergent and other miscellaneous cleaners. Most of the walls, clotheslines, and other surfaces were covered in costumes for their upcoming performances. Rehearsal tutus and skirts of various colours were hung on the wall opposite a large washing tub, a pair of out-dated washing machines, and a single, very small dryer. At the far end of the room, behind curtains of tulle and velvet was a cozy little couch that had also seen better days. Rose shivered again, feeling a blast of chilled air escape from the vents above them. John wrapped his arms tightly around her from behind.

“We best be getting you warmed up before you catch your death,” John whispered, his lips brushing the shell of her ear.

“Dry…dryer’s over…guhh…over there,” Rose stuttered. John had begun to very lightly nibble on her earlobe. The sensation sent a jolt of searing arousal through her.

“Lead the way,” he said with a final kiss right below her ear. Rose reluctantly left the warmth of John’s arms in order to lead him over to the machine, but not before she laced their fingers together.

The dryer was a beat up old thing that should have been replaced years ago, but because most of the garments had to be hung to dry, it was rarely used anyway. It was noisy when on and took longer than necessary to dry whatever was placed in its care.

“You sure that thing works?” John asked, eyeing up the machine. He too had begun to shiver from the cold air and wet clothes.

“Are you cold? I think there are some towels kicking around here somewhere,” Rose made a move to go look for something so they could dry off somewhat, but John tugged her back into his arms.

“No, I’m good thanks,” He murmured contentedly, hugging her tightly to him. He nuzzled his nose into her hair. “No need for silly old towels when I have a perfectly nice Rose to keep me warm.” Rose laughed and eagerly returned the hug.

After a few minutes of just being wrapped in each other, Rose began to feel chilled again. Her skin was clammy and she was pretty sure her fingers had re-pruned from being clenched in John’s shirt.

“As nice as this is,” Rose said softly into John’s neck, his light stubble pleasantly scratching her lips. “We should really do something about these wet clothes.”

John took a step back and removed his t-shirt and tossing it somewhere behind him. There was a light smattering of hair that crossed along the top half of his nicely defined torso. He looked at Rose, an unspoken question passing between them. He had an anxious look of excitement etched upon is face while waiting for her answer. Smiling mutely, Rose answered him with a single nod of her head before slowly raising her arms.

This was all the encouragement John seemed to need. In the blink of an eye, John’s mouth descended on hers. Not wanting to make the same mistake as the last time, Rose plunged her hands into his hair and returned the kiss with as much fervour as she could muster. Their pervious kiss had been gentle and hesitant, but this was the kiss of pent up passion finally snapping. Noses were mushed against cheeks and teeth clashed with absolutely no fineness.

Rose was too caught up in the way John’s lips felt against her own to notice that John had slowly been backing her up. She gasped when her back hit a hard wall cushioned by tutus. Attempting to get the upper hand, Rose traced the seam of his mouth with her tongue, coaxing it open, his tongue happily tangling with hers.

Desire coiled tightly within the depths of her core, she craved more. As if hearing her thoughts, John ground his pelvis into her, evidence of his own arousal rubbing against her. Rose sucked John’s lower lip into her mouth as the friction from the damp fabric hit her perfectly. She felt John’s fingers fumbling with the hem of her shirt, pulling it up. He growled in frustration when he met more fabric instead of skin. Rose nearly lost it when John’s hands brushed over her painfully strained nipples as he lifted her shirt over her head, letting it drop to the floor with a satisfying plop.

“Rose,” John panted, resting his forehead against hers. “Please tell me you want this. Because if we go even further, I don’t think I will be able to stop myself. It’s a bloody miracle I’ve lasted this long. And now that the likelihood of us being interrupted again is fairly low-“

Rose pressed a finger to his lips and grinned, her breathing still laboured. “I want this, John. I’ve wanted this since we first danced together.”

She felt John’s breath catch and his grip tighten ever so slightly around her. “Really?”

Rose responded by closing the distance between them again, capturing his lips. The kiss this time was unhurried, both of them mapping each other’s mouths and letting their hands wander, touching whatever they could reach. Trembling fingers traced intricate designs wherever they touched and breathy laughs ghosted over skin.

John took a step back, his hands traveling up to the straps of Rose’s leotard. At an achingly slow pace, he tugged the straps down. His fingers electrifying Rose’s hypersensitive skin. Her nipples puckered instantly once the cool air hit the damp skin. John went slack jawed, his eyes roaming over her bared flesh. Her first instinct was to cover herself, but John stilled her motions.

“You are staggeringly beautiful,” his voice just above an awed whisper. It was almost as though he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Rose felt herself blush.

When their eyes met again, John brought his lips softly back to hers before trailing them down her neck lightly sucking at her pulse point. He shifted down towards her bosom, searing the flesh in his wake. His tongue wrapped around one of her nipples while he gently stroked the other with his thumb. Rose’s head lulled back in ecstasy when he sucked the little bud into his mouth. When he worried the rosy peak between his teeth, Rose couldn’t help groaning.

Wetness pooled between her thighs, and she ached, oh God how she ached. She wanted him, no, needed him, and sought out the friction of his erection again and whimpered when she only found his thigh to rub against.

It was John’s turn to groan when Rose reached between them and stroked his bulge through his sweatpants. The vibrations of his deep voice only enhanced the sensation of him suckling her breast. His fingertips dug into her hips as she griped him more firmly. She tugged the drawstrings of his pants and yanked them down finally freeing his erection. Grasping the velvet encased steal, she stroked him a few times, listening to the way he hissed through his teeth.

“Rose,” John murmured against her skin. “You’re going to unman me if you keep that up.” Rose felt a sense of pride swell in her chest at John’s words, and she shoved his pants the rest of the way down with an accomplished smile on her face. The victory was short lived as John turned the tables on her. Reaching into her sweatpants, he ran rubbed his fingers along the damp seam of her leotard, causing her to buck her hips forward.

“John, please!” Rose cried out. His fingers pushed aside the tight fabric and traced her folds before plunging a finger inside her wet heat. But the angle was awkward, and the amount of constricting clothing she had on restricted his movement, so she batted his hands away. A fresh wave of lust washed over her as she watched him suck her juices off his finger, his cheeks hollowing as he tried to get every last drop.

Rose yelped when John unexpectedly scooped her up, his cock poking her center with each maddening step he took towards a wooden table. Once he set her down gently, he roughly tugged her pants and bodysuit off in one swift movement. Both of them were now gloriously naked (John somehow had managed to lose his sweatpants along the way), their chests heaving in passion. Rose’s skin tingled and even felt a little lightheaded. It was as though she was looking down on the scene from above, yet she could still feel John’s cool fingers running up the insides of her thighs, his mouth following closely behind. Every now and then, his tongue darted out, teasing her slowly.

John’s eyes connected with Rose’s when he finally reached her folds. With a feather-light touch, he spread her moisture across her lower lips while never breaking eye contact. Rose arched of the table with a deep moan.

“Yes, let me hear you, Rose,” John groaned against where she really craved him.

“I need you now, John,” Rose pled, her hands tugging at his silky hair. “Please. You can pick this up again later. Any time, anywhere you want, I promise you, but I need you inside me. Now.”

John chuckled softly and slowly licked her folds, pausing to briefly suck on her swollen pink pearl. John swallowed her cries of pleasure when he brought his mouth back to hers, his fingers still teasing her. The taste of herself was imprinted on John’s tongue, and it only served to spur her on further, awaking something primal from deep within. She knew there would be marks on both of their bodies they would have to explain later, but she didn’t care. She wanted her nails to leave faint red lines down his back; she wanted her breasts to show the evidence of where his mouth had been-she wanted him to claim her as much as she wanted to claim him.

John broke the kiss and positioned himself at her entrance, rubbing his cock through her wetness before slowing pushing inside. Both of them groaned in tandem.

“Fuck Rose… You’re so tight…You feel so good,” John panted in her ear. He remained motionless, allowing her to get use to him. She was nowhere near the experience level of a certain Jack Harkness, nor was she a blushing virgin, but John still stretched and filled her to the point of it almost being painful, but oh, he felt so good.

“Are okay?” John pulled out enough that just his tip was resting with in her and looked down at her for any signs of distress. Rose reached up with a smiled and cupped his cheek; he closed his eyes and leaned into her touch.

John lowered his lips tenderly to hers while plunging back into her. This time, he didn’t stop. He set a slow pace at first, stoking the flames that flared between them. Gradually, he sped up. Wrapping her legs around his hips, he hit even deeper than before. Rose’s moans turned into cries that echoed off the walls.

Rose felt her carefully coiled desire begin to unwind, and by the sound of John’s grunts, he was close too. It was like her senses were in overdrive. She could feel the beads of sweat that trickled down the back of her neck and John’s hardness sheathed inside her, hitting her perfectly while his pelvis rubbed exactly where she needed him. She could feel his sideburns scrape against her cheek and the way his fingers gripped her hips tightly. The heady aroma of their sex cocooned around them in cocktail of sweat and passion. Rose strained to keep her eyes open, but everything seemed to brighten around her.

“Rose, tell me your close, please love, I need you to come for me,” John gritted out, his thrusts growing frantic as he chased his release. His words were her undoing; she arched off the table, screaming his name, her orgasm taking her by storm. She could feel her wall’s clenching around John’s length, which triggered his release with a low guttural moan. With one last thrust, John spilled into her.

Everything around them was still, the only sounds were their ragged breathing and frenzied heartbeats. John’s torso was a welcomed weight on top of her, his head pillowed between her breasts. Rose wrapped her arms around his back, slowly trailing her fingers up and down his spine while they eased down from their high. John pressed a soft kiss to her left breast, right above her heart, before carefully pulling out of her. Rose winced at the rush of fluid that escaped her. He grabbed his sweats from the floor, and very gently cleaned her up, chuckling quietly when she arched off the table at his touch.

Her eyes were so heavy, she wanted nothing more than to curl up with John behind her and drift off to sleep. Her eyes flew open when she realized John wasn’t curled behind her, in fact, he was nowhere in sight.

“John?” Rose called out. Fear was beginning to bubble up. What if John just wanted a quick shag? Once he had gotten his fill, was he done with her? She couldn’t see his sweatpants or his shirt anywhere. She felt cold, and it wasn’t just from the sweat drying on her skin. Sitting up, she wrapped her arms protectively around herself.

“John?” She tried again.

“I’m right here,” John said from behind her, pressing a series of kisses to her shoulder, but Rose remained slightly stiff.

“I thought you had left,” She said, her arms still across her body.

“Did you want me to leave?” John’s lips stilled, his voice suddenly tight.

“No!” Rose turned around to face him. His pants hung dangerously low off his hips. Rose unconsciously licked her lips at the sight of a dark trail of hair that peaked out of the waistband. She didn’t miss the way his eyes followed her tongue.

“Brilliant!” John beamed brightly. “I was just trying to figure out this bloody dryer. I thought you might like some dry clothes, but I don’t think the blasted machine likes me very much.”

“Come on then, I’ll show you how it’s done,” Rose laughed, taking John by the hand.

Once Rose had fought with the machine to dry their clothes (which earned her a very heated kiss from a very impressed John) and they had managed to find some old, but thankfully clean, warm-up clothes to wear while they waited, they cuddled up on the small couch that was tucked away in a corner.

“Rose?” John asked quietly, his voice hesitant.

“Hmm?”

“Did you mean what you said earlier? About us being able to do this again?

Rose lifted her head off his chest so she could look him in the eye. They were nervous and venerable, her heart clenched for him.

“I did,” she said cupping his cheek.

“And that you’ve wanted this since that first night we danced?”

“I meant every word of it.” Her thumb traced his plump lower lip.

“Me too,” John smiled and kissed her thumb, instantly relaxing.

“And you’re saying that this isn’t just a quick shag for you? A good old horizontal tango to calm your nerves before a big show?”

“First of all, Rose Tyler, I will show you exactly how I calm my nerves before a big show, and there will be nothing horizontal about our tango,” John promised huskily with a waggle of his eyebrows. Then he took her hand and held it over his heart, his voice full of emotion and sincerity. “This was not just a quick shag for me, as you oh so romantically put it. You are so much more than that. More than I ever could ask for. More than I could ever deserve. My heart soars when I’m with you. I have never been happier than I am right now, here with you. Donna may have dragged me back to the dance world and yanked up my tights up over my ears, but you, my precious and beautiful Rose, rekindled my love for it. And I cannot thank you enough for that.”

Rose pressed her lips tenderly to her partner’s, pouring all of her emotions and feelings into him. Unspoken words hung above them waiting to be said. Both of them knew the words were there, begging, pleading to be known to each other. But even as they were left unsaid, they could feel them with every touch and every glance, and sometimes, that was enough.


	9. Coda

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Thank you again for all of your kind words, they mean so much to me! I may have taken a few liberties with the injury mentioned in this chapter. I would also like to dedicate this chapter to my dear friend greatspacedustbin. Without her words of encouragement and gentle nudges, this chapter probably would still be in the works. I hope you all enjoy!

Rose felt hot tears prick her eyes. She was so frustrated with herself for getting so worked up over something she knew had to end; something she knew from the start wasn’t even real. Yet, she still managed to get so wrapped up in it, become so entranced by the fantasy of the romance. She even knew how it would end, having been through it time and time again herself. But it still hurt. The pain was a knife’s point that was plunged into her heart and twisted with each breath she took, trying not to show her emotions. She wished she could just go back and change so much that had happened, particularly miscommunication. It always came down to miscommunication. Everything would have been different if they had just talked to each other. She wanted to shout to the heavens, pleading that it shouldn’t end like this. It couldn’t end like this; nothing ever should; yet here they were, saying what would be their last words to each other.

Rose could no longer keep her tears at bay. They cascaded down her cheeks in an unstoppable stream. She bit her lips to keep from crying out, but it only seemed to muffle her sobs slightly. A familiar cool hand tangled itself with hers; its firm grasp did little to help her, it may have made things worse. Soothing circles where rubbed on the back of her hand to offer her comfort until she choked out a strangled sob. The few people that were around her turned to look back at who was blubbering.

“Rose,” John whispered hoarsely. “Are you okay?”

Rose looked up at him and shook her head sadly. He smiled softly at her and kissed her forehead before wrapping his arm around her shoulders tucking her into his side. Rose leaned into him; her hand fisted his shirt as she turned back to the stage, weeping quietly into John’s chest.

She knew she was being ridiculous, openly crying while watching Martha and Mickey preform Romeo and Juliet’s tomb scene. It was a bloody fictitious ballet. But seeing them up there, so in character, was so beautiful. They were perfect partners for each other. The emotions that shone on their faces wasn’t something they had learnt in classes and rehearsals, but it may have been something they developed during their time together. There always seemed to be a connection between them, but it wasn’t until they had to play the part of two people desperately in love with each other, that they were pushed over the edge into something more than friends.

Rose let her mind drift to not only her partnership with John, but her relationship with him as well. A relationship with a partner on stage and off stage were often vastly different, both were completely other worlds. Juliet was not Rose. Romeo was not John. Yet, the passion that burned between John and Rose had bubbled over into their characters. Juliet was not holding Romeo’s hand while they danced around each other at the masked ball; Romeo was not sending Juliet heated looks from beneath the ivy-draped balcony. The line between characters and real people had been blurred to the point of no longer being visible. Their characters were just a vessel that bared the real emotions and passion of the dancers. Rose wasn't dancing the part of Juliet; she was dancing the part of Rose.

The sound of echoing applause jolted her out of her thoughts. Quickly, she dashed away what was left of her tears and jumped to her feet, clapping and cheering along with the rest of the company.

Donna took the stage once the dancers had cleared off into the wings. She had nothing but praise for Mickey and Martha. She announced that if every performance was going to be like the one they had just finished, they were going to end up having their run of Romeo and Juliet was going to be extended. Again, the theater erupted into a thunderous applause.

There was a brief interlude where John and Rose were to warm up and prepare for their tech rehearsal. While it wasn’t unordinary for two dancers to assist each other, pushing their flexibility and helping to heat up their muscles, Rose and John leaned more towards the unconventional side of limbering up. Extending their normal stretch and flexibility thresholds just so they could press their lips to the other’s neck definitely got the blood pumping much faster than previous warm up styles.

Finally in their rehearsal costumes and on separate sides of the stage, the set and lighting had been reset, the dark blue curtain had been lowered, and the beginning strains of the orchestra’s music filled the theater. Rose watched John on the other side continuing to jump to keep his muscles warm for his entrance. His hair had been slicked back in a very un-Johnly manner. He had fought tooth and nail with Donna over Romeo’s hairstyle, but lost the battle when Donna had smugly asked who the artistic director was. Later, when Rose was running her fingers through John’s freshly washed locks as they shared a bath, John concluded that he wouldn’t mind suffering through a few bad hair days if they could spend their nights like this. He declared that he may have lost the battle, but he had definitely won the war.

“Something’s got you grinning like a loon, and I don’t think it’s tech rehearsals,” Jack slid up beside her dressed in his Mercutio tights.

“Oh you know… we open in less than a week. Just excited,” Rose said. It was only a partial lie; she truly was excited for the performances.

“Right,” Jack drawled out, clearly seeing right through her. “And falling into the strapping arms of that gorgeous man over there, both on and off the stage, wouldn’t be part of that reason, would it?” Rose fought the smile that threatened to confirm Jack’s observation. He really was quite good at reading her.

“He gets that exact same look on his face when he’s thinking of you too, you know,” Jack whispered in her ear.

Rose turned back to the stage just as John made his entrance. Jack’s words were still ringing pleasantly in her ears, and she felt her heart flutter a little bit more.

“Well, I think that’s your cue! Break a leg out there Rosie,” and in their long-standing tradition, Jack cupped both of Rose’s cheeks and kissed her soundly on the mouth.

Rose continued to beam as she shook out her limbs in preparation for her own entrance. However, just as John was finishing up an intricate series of fouetté jetés, he wiped out. Hard. Rose gasped as she saw his leg give out and his head bounce off the stage floor. While it was a pretty rare occurrence for a principal to fall on stage during a performance, it still happened. Most of the time, the dancer would get up and the show would go on as though nothing had happened. So when John didn’t immediately get up, Rose knew that something was terribly wrong.

Two of the Corps members came and helped John off into the wings. As soon as the curtain fell and the house lights came up, Rose bolted across the stage in the blink of an eye. “Honestly, I’m fine,” John insisted. He sat on the floor with his back up against the wall. His right leg was stretched out straight in front of him, his hands wrapped around his knee. His face was a bit paler than usual.

“Stand up then,” Donna said sternly, her hands planted firmly on her hips.

“Donna, there’s nothing to worry about. My knee gave out on me, must not have warmed up enough. Bit of a bump to the head, it’s no big deal! I just need a bit of ice and I’ll be right as rain!” John attempted to stand by putting all of his weight onto his left leg. “See? Positively molto ben-“ he grunted in pain when he tried to put weight on his right leg. Rose promptly caught him when he started to fall.

“Rose!” John gasped out, offering a weak smile.

“Hello,” Rose softly returned the infectious smile while John clung to her arms for support.

“Long time to see,” John joked, but Rose could see the pain and discomfort written across his blanched features.

“Yeah…well, been busy,” Rose replied with a laugh. John tried to laugh, but it turned into a wince when he slipped in her arms. “Okay you, I think Donna’s right. You hurt yourself, so lets go get you looked after before it gets any worse, yeah?”

Eventually, after Rose’s kind encouragements and Donna’s not so kind threats, John let himself be led off to Rory, Tardis’ medic.

Rose sat biting her thumbnail next to Donna while they watched Rory examine John’s injuries. He shone a penlight into John’s eyes and tested his reflexes before poking and prodding around John’s knee. When John was asked to extend and bend his knee, he sharply inhaled through his teeth, his knuckles white from clenching. Rose reached over and wove her fingers with his hoping it would offer a bit of comfort.

“Well the good news is I don’t think anything is broken or pulled. Nor do I think you have a concussion. You may have a nasty headache in the morning that will rival your worst hangover though,” Rory confirmed, giving John ice packs to rest on his knee and head. Everyone in the room collectively let out a sigh of relief. “But, I do think you have a touch of inflammation of the patellar tendon and some painful bruising from your fall, but nothing too serious. You should be good as new with a bit of rest.”

“Exactly how much rest?” John asked.

“Oh, about a week or so, maybe two. Provided there is no serious exertion that will aggravate the tendon further,” Rory answered simply.

“A week without serious activity,” John repeated flatly.

“Try to avoid jumping, running, excessive amounts of stairs, crouching, heavy lifting, anything that puts too much pressure on your knee,” Rory explained.

“I’m a dancer. A dancer with a show in less than a week. I can’t just avoid jumping and running.”

“Isn’t there a way of wrapping it up? We only have a few performances,” Rose asked. John was her partner; she knew it was selfish of her, but didn’t want to dance with anyone except him unless she absolutely had to.

“Well yes there is, but you could risk injuring your knee further, John. It isn’t too bad now, but without the proper rest, you could risk it getting worse,” Rory stated.

John sighed and flopped back against the back of the bed, dislodging his ice packs. “Donna, who’s my alternate?”

“Luke Rattigan,” Donna stated.

“Nope. I’m not doing that to Rose. I’ve seen him dance. Well, I say dance…” John made a face and trailed off. “Who else we got?”

“We could slot in Adam’s alternate, Baines?” Donna suggested.

“Yeah, I don’t fancy gettin’ groped on stage or dropped on my arse,” Rose interjected.

“Mickey’s alternate, Toby?” Donna tried.

“No!” Rose and John both said in unison. Toby was talented while performing alone, but was the partner from hell.

“That settles it then. Looks like I’m dancing!” John announced happily.

“John, what if you hurt yourself further? This could kill your career,” Rose squeezed John’s hand.

“I’m a tough old boot and a pretty fast healer. Tell me what I’ve got to do,” he turned back to Rory.

“John-“ Rory began but was interrupted by John.

“You said there is a way of wrapping it up so I could perform. I’ve only got four shows, and I’ll take it easy over the next couple of days. Won’t even leave my flat.”

Rory sighed in defeat and went to fetch a wrap to show John how to stabilize his knee. He reminded John to continue to stretch it over the week, perhaps more so than he normally would, but to avoid activities that would aggravate the tendons and muscles. He told John and Rose that they would be able to roughly mark out their choreography in a day or so once the initial pain had subsided.

“Be kind to your knee; tender love and care,” Rory smiled kindly, though his tone was still apprehensive about the whole situation. “And lots of ice. Come see me if it flares up again or if you are experiencing any symptoms of a concussion. Don’t push yourself.”

Rose, Donna, and John left the small office. “Rose, will you see that John get’s home all right? I still have another tech run to sit though, and he actually seems to listen to you. Well, more than he listens to me anyway.”

“What? I don’t even get to finish my rehearsal?” John nearly shouted. “How rubbish is that?”

“And please don’t let him ride that bloody motor bike of his, it can only end in further disaster,” Donna continued on, ignoring John’s protests.

TBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTB

They ordered takeaway once they got back to John’s flat and absentmindedly flicked through channels on the tele while they ate. John’s sore leg was propped up on a pillow with a bag of frozen peas resting on his knee. Just as Rory had said, there were several painful looking dark bruises that painted the skin of John’s leg.

“So, Rose Tyler, tell me about yourself,” John said casually in between bites.

Rose snorted into her glass of water. “You’re asking me this now?” They had seen (and tasted) nearly every inch of each other’s bodies, so the notion that he was asking something so innocent was almost laughable. It occurred to her that they knew exactly which spots made the other whimper and gasp, and which ones drew out screams and pleas, but they didn’t know the simplest facts.

“I duno, it seems like a good time as any. And aren’t boyfriends supposed to know about their girlfriends?” John’s tone was nonchalant but his eyes widened at his last words, as did Rose’s. “I mean…I…erm…I’m sorry, that last bit just sorta slipped out…”

“So, I’m your girlfriend now, am I?” Rose asked after a beat with a smirk, her heart racing and swimming with every bright and shiny emotion known to man.

“Well…if you want?” John looked away from her, his cheeks flaming red. Rose bit her lip to stifle an excited giggle. Without hesitation, she took John’s plate and piled it on top of hers before gently climbing onto his lap. She firmly pressed her lips to his. He seemed shocked at first, but quickly rapped his hands around her back, eagerly returning her kiss. His hands found their way under shirt, kneading the soft flesh of her back.

“I’ll take that as a yes, then?” John panted, resting his forehead against hers.

“Genius, you are,” Rose smiled and nipped lightly at John’s lower lip before leaning in to devour his mouth again, her fingernails scraping his scalp. Rose smiled against him when she was rewarded with a shiver and a happy sound from the back of his throat.

They were both thoroughly snogged and winded by the time they broke apart again. Rose climbed off him in fear of hurting his leg further, but didn’t want to move too far away, so she tucked herself under John’s arm. She pillowed her head on his chest and drew lazy circles on the back of his hand.

“Don’t think that you can avoid my question by distracting me with those lovely lips of yours,” John nuzzled the side of her face.

“There’s not much to tell, really,” Rose sighed.

“Oh, come now,” John paused to think. “What’s your favourite colour?”

“Pink, I guess?” Rose laughed at the simplicity of the trivial question.

“That was an easy one. Even I could have guessed that. Favourite film?”

“Toss up between It Happened One Night and Monty Python and the Holy Grail,” Rose answered without a second thought.

“Oh good answers, Miss Tyler. I think I just may keep you around!” John rewarded her with a peck to the temple. “Okay, umm any hidden talents?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Rose replied in a husky tone. When John went to speak again, she slipped a finger over his mouth. “Ah, ah, ah, I think it’s my turn to interrogate you.” She felt him grin beneath her finger.

John’s responding chuckle was low and sent a jolt of arousal to Rose’s core. “I like. The way. You think. Ask away.” He punctuated each paused with a to kiss to her fingers and lingered to graze his teeth on the pad of her baby finger.

“What’s your, ah! What’s your favourite food?” Rose bit back a moan as John soothed her pinkie with his tongue.

“Banana bread. Although,” John added with a wicked grin, “I can’t seem to get enough of this new tasty morsel known as: Rose Tyler. It’s dangerously addictive.” He began to pepper kisses along her jaw, his free hand traveling up her legging clad leg.

“Funny, can’t say I’ve had that last one…” she couldn’t fight the breathy whimper that slipped from her throat. His fingers began to dance over her inner thigh and up between her legs.

“Oh, I highly recommend it. In fact, I think may have a craving for it right now,” John whispered seductively in her ear. The light touch of his fingers became a little more deliberate, but never applying enough pressure to do anything beyond teasing her. Wetness rapidly pooled between Rose’s legs and John nibbled on the lobe of her ear. Rose decided it was time to turn the tables. He moaned deeply when Rose traced a finger along the bulge in John’s sweat pants, clear evidence of his own budding arousal.

“Rose…” John hissed through his teeth, clutching at Rose’s wrist.

“Tender love and care: those where the good doctor’s orders. And I intend to see that you are properly tendered and loved,” Rose ghosted her lips over John’s and slowly palmed his clothed erection. He arched into her hand, his warmth seeping through the thin fabric of the pants. John closed the distance between their lips just as Rose’s hand slipped beneath his waistband and firmly grasp him.

The kiss was languid and in time with the stroking of Rose’s hand. Their tongues caressed and their teeth nipped. Rose swallowed John’s groans as she ran her thumb over the leaking tip of his cock. She was so focused on John’s hardened length and the way he sucked on her lower lip, that she didn’t realize John’s clever fingers had worked their way into her leggings and were lazily tracing her folds.

Rose tore her mouth away from John’s long enough to divest him of his shirt and pants, then trailed her mouth down his torso, pausing to lick and lightly bite at his flesh here and there. John reluctantly removed his hand from Rose’s leggings when she changed the angle she was at so she could position her mouth over him. She was pleased to see his cock twitch in response.

“Rose, you don’t have to…guh…”John’s babbling was ceased when Rose licked him from base to tip, a sinful smile crossing her lips at the sight of John’s eyelashes fluttering shut.

“Let me do this for you, please?” Rose asked, her breath ghosting over him. John’s eyes were still closed, a half smile on his face, he could only bring himself to nod.

Rose slowly took him into her mouth, enjoying the way John’s fist clenched the throw pillow beside him. She pulled back at the same maddening pace, her hand following behind to stroke him. She swirled her tongue around his tip before repeating her previous motion, all while never taking her eyes off John’s face. His eyes were clenched tight; she could tell he was resisting the urge to thrust up into her mouth. When she did pick up speed, his eyes opened to watch her. His hand came up to brush her hair behind her ear then softly touched her shoulder. Rose could feel him beginning to tremble beneath her, and judging by his grunts, she knew he was getting close.

“Rose, I’m gonna…you really should stop before I…oh God…“ John was silenced as Rose doubled her efforts, her cheeks hollowing and teeth coming into play. His eyes were wide and unblinking with pupils drowning the molten chocolate of his irises. With a few more passes and flicks of her tongue, John was hoarsely shouting Rose’s name as he came in the back of her throat. She eased him down from his climax with her tongue and lips, releasing him with a satisfying pop before tucking him back into his pants. She climbed back up John’s boneless form to place a tender kiss on his mouth. A sense of pride and power washing over her at the sight of John’s flushed cheeks and rapidly moving chest.

“That was…wow…”John whispered in awe when he finally regained the ability to speak. His hand cupped her cheek and thumb rubbed along her swollen bottom lip.

“How’s your knee?” Rose asked, leaning into his touch and kissing his thumb.

John’s head dropped back when he laughed, his eyes dancing with mirth. The sound was warm and more than infectious, Rose couldn’t help but join in.

“You are the most remarkable woman I have ever met,” John stated when they stopped laughing.

“What, because I asked about your knee?” Rose replied, her brow furrowing. “My reasoning is more selfish than you think. I really don’t want to dance with anyone else. You’ve completely spoiled me with your partnering, John.”

“Consider me just as selfish then, because I don’t want you dancing with anyone else either,” he kissed her lightly. “Your remarkability goes far beyond asking about my knee, which is fine by the way. Excellent painkiller, pleasure, definitely my preferred method.” Rose giggled in agreement and snuggled into him.

They sat in companionable silence while they watched a late night talk show. Rose’s head rested on John’s still bare chest, the steady rhythm of his heart lulling her to edge of sleep. Ever since she had met John, colours seemed to be a bit brighter, music seemed to be a bit sweeter, fruit seemed to taste better. Her love for dance even seemed to increase when they were together. Even though she had only known him for a few short weeks, she knew her life had changed for the better. In the back of her mind, she was aware that this moment of pure bliss couldn’t last; John was only a guest artist with Tardis, and would be returning to Gallifrey once their run of Romeo and Juliet was over. Rose clung to the hope that if they danced well enough together, Donna would bring John back again, or maybe she could be brought on a guest artist with Gallifrey.

“Rose? Are you awake?” John asked quietly, pressing his lips to the top of her head.

“I’m just resting my eyes,” Rose mumbled. She nuzzled the light patch of hair on John’s chest to show that she was still awake.

“Come on, let’s get you off to bed,” he chuckled softly.

“Let’s just stay here a little bit longer. You’re comfier than you look,” Rose brushed her lips over his heart and snuggled down further.

“I’m so glad I met you,” John whispered, wrapping his arms tightly around her. It was just as well, because Rose felt that she might float away. “I can’t even begin to find the words to describe what you mean to me,” his words were just loud enough for her to hear, she wasn’t even completely sure that she was meant to. She knew exactly how he felt. Looking up at him, his eyes sparkled with a shared love and adoration, and she pulled him down into a searing kiss, hoping that it would convey what words couldn’t.


	10. Apothéose

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay wow! Each and every one of you who sent me such kind, encouraging words are so wonderful! I am beyond sorry for the delay on this update! My classes ended up being a bit insane this semester and I (foolishly?) took on 2 jobs that kind of eat up all of my free time. BUT, if it makes up for it, this isn't the last chapter! The characters got a bit away from me, so there will be at least one more chapter after this! I hope you enjoy! :D:D

“Rose? Is that you?”

“Yeah, just me,” Rose closed the door to John’s flat behind her and hung up her drenched coat on the hook next to it. John had stuck to his promise and not left his flat since his injury, so Rose was spending most of her time between his place and the studio.

“Come here a sec?” John’s voice called from the living room.

“Expecting someone else were you?” Rose joked as she walked over to where John was sprawled out on the couch with his laptop. She placed a light kiss on his forehead.

“Never. Always you, only you,” John replied, catching her hand and pulling her down for a languid snog. It was awkward at the upside down angle, Rose’s nose bumped John’s chin as he tried to deepen it, but it still managed to shoot waves of heat through her.

“So I may have some bad news,” John said once they broke apart. Rose’s already racing heart doubled in pace. Her eyes dropped to John’s knee. “Apparently I’m dying.”

“You’re what?” Rose’s eyes snapped to John’s, his mouth set in a grim line.

“Yes, according to this German dance site, I am losing a battle with a rare disorder. My performance with Tardis was supposed to be my last hurrah, but unfortunately the disease is moving far too quickly, making me collapse on stage during a rehearsal. I haven’t been seen or heard from since,” John finished with a melodramatic sigh.

“I’m pretty sure your entire building can hear that gob of yours,” Rose smirked, relieved that it was just another rumour about what had happened to the famous Jonathon Smith. Her personal favourite was that John had retired to grow bananas, but there were many darker rumours about John losing his leg or even dying.

“Oi! Look whose talking! All of London could hear you last night. And this morning. And they’re about to hear you again…”John trailed off with a growl as he attempted to snake a hand up Rose’s shirt.

“Oh no you don’t, mister,” Rose laughed at John’s full-on pout. “We still need to mark out this performance.”

John huffed dramatically, but got to his feet, pulling Rose into his arms. “And then we can explore the morning after scene more thoroughly? I think it would be beneficial to our characters,” he murmured against Rose’s lips.

“You’re insatiable, you are,” Rose shivered as John’s hands ran up her spine. “Come on then, we’re on stage tomorrow in front of hundreds of your adoring fans, so we need to practice.” Rose pressed her lips softly to John’s, but pulled back before either one of them had time to deepen it. She knew that if she were to let go, there would be no going back.

John’s flat wasn’t enormous, but if they pushed the couch and coffee table off to the side, they had enough room to be able to mark out the movements and go through the motions of the lifts well enough. Despite not being on stage for nearly a week, John and Rose still moved as though they hadn’t been off for nearly a week. They knew the choreography inside and out, but they still managed to anticipate every step and breath, every slip and misstep, dancing as one unit.

Rose wanted John to continue to take it easy, not wanting his injury to flare up again, but John persisted, saying that he was fine. He seemed to try and prove it every chance he got, which worried Rose.

“Rose, I swear to you, my knee can handle a little movement. I’ve danced with far worse injuries than this,” John insisted after Rose had told him to go slow. She could tell John was getting frustrated with her babying him.

“So you’ve said, but we are opening tomorrow night, it wouldn’t do any good to reinjure yourself now, so lets just take it one step at a time, yeah? Don’t over do it.”

“Not dancing on it won’t be much better, either! I’m not going to hurt myself again. And even if I did, it wouldn’t matter. I’m dancing on that stage tomorrow night, and all of our other shows, injury or no injury. With you and only you,” John’s exasperated tone grew a bit softer. He brought his hand up to Rose’s cheek, his eyes pleading with her to believe him.

Rose felt a pang at John’s words, but before she could respond, John’s mobile rang. When he went to answer it, Rose’s thoughts took over. She knew they were going to have to talk about John returning to Gallifrey sooner or later, but she just kept putting it off. She didn’t want to have to deal with the inevitable just yet. Future Rose would be able to come up with something and deal with it, she thought. Well right now she wanted to give past Rose a swift kick in the arse.

“That was Donna,” John said, breaking Rose out of her thoughts. “She wants us to come down to the studio so Rory can give me a once over. Then she said we could give it a go on stage pending Rory’s ‘professional medical opinion.’”

Rose nodded and offered a tight-lipped smile. John’s brows furrowed.

“Rose? Is something the matter?” he asked.

“Oh just thinking,” Rose replied.

“About?”

“It’s nothing really,” she lied, forcing a grin. “C’mon, lets get you cleared for take off!”

John looked at her sceptically but returned her grin and laced their fingers together before heading off to the studio.

TBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTB

 

“Well, all inflammation seems to have receded,” Rory said as he flexed and extended John’s leg. “And you don’t feel anymore pain?”

Rose watched the examination take place from a chair off to the side. Her gaze bounced between the prodding and extending that Rory was doing and back to John’s face, looking for any signs of discomfort.

“None whatsoever!” John replied cheerily. “Like I said, I’m a speedy healer. I was also well looked after. Thoroughly tended to!” John met Rose’s eyes and threw her a sinful smirk causing her to blush.

“So, is John able to dance tomorrow?” Rose asked, trying to cover the colour of her cheeks.

“That’s exactly what I am here to find out,” Donna’s voice came from the doorway. There was a murmur of agreement that came from behind her. Donna spun around to face a group in the hall. “I’m sure all of you have much better things to do with your lives then sitting around here with bated breath. Now, shift!”

The group outside mumbled unhappily and dispersed as Donna shut the door behind her with a click.

“Okay, now that that’s taken care of, how are you feeling, Doctor?” Donna asked, her voice much less brash then usual. Rose found herself smiling at the endearing nickname.

“Top banana! Fit as a fiddle! Right as rain! Molto bene! Per-“

“Okay, I got it.” Donna held up her hand to stop John’s ramble and turned to Rose. “How is he really feeling?”

“We’ve been doing soft walkthroughs throughout the week, and he seems to have been fine. He was all right doing various things around his flat…” She trailed off thinking of more to say, but John interrupted.

“All right? All right?!” John spluttered. “Rose Tyler, I’ve put your flexibility to the test more than dancing ever has, and you say that it was ‘all right’?”

“All right, that’s enough out of you! Rory, how is he?” Donna asked with an exasperated tone.

“John seems to have made a near perfect recovery,” Rory reported. “There may be some slight muscle weakness in his knee, and what’s left of the bruising, but that’s to be expected and will continue to heal.”

It looked as though John was about to say something but Donna beat him to it.

“Bottom line, is he able to dance in tomorrow’s show?”

Everyone in the room held their breath while Rory looked John over once more.

“I don’t see why not. As long as you do a good warm up and cool down before the show, and keep the muscles warm during intermission, you should be good to go. However, I would also highly suggest wearing this under your leotard during all your performances,” Rory said with a smile, holding up a fabric knee support. At John’s displeased expression, he added, “It will hardly be noticeable underneath, it’s seamless, but it will offer you a little extra support when you have additional pressure on it.”

“But-“ John started to protest.

“No buts,” Donna said sternly, but her voice was laced with affection “I’m not having you injure yourself further. You’ve worked your skinny arse off to get this far, and I’ve seen the way your eyes light up on that stage, especially when Rose is up there dancing with you. The two of you light up this entire city when your together, and I won’t have you cocking that up.”

Rose and John shared a look that said they were thinking the same thing. Both of them loved dancing and had worked hard to get where they were today. There had been many hurdles along the way, but as soon as that curtain went up and they just let the dance take over, it was all worth it. But something had changed drastically since they met each other. Rose felt a new flame bloom to life when she started to work with John. It was as though she had been dancing in silence all those years, and when John came along, she could truly hear the music she was moving to.

“Well, you two,” Donna jumped in briskly. “I think it’s about time we toss you on stage for a run through before the show tomorrow.”

John flashed an excited grin that lingered on Rose before jumping off the examination table, ready to bound out of the room.

“Hold it! Forgetting something?” Donna asked with raised eyebrows.

“Oh right, yes!” John whirled back around, wrapped his fingers around Rose’s wrist, and pulled her up into his chest, his lips poised above hers.

“Not what I meant! And not in here! And especially not with me in the room!” Donna scoffed in disgust, covering her eyes with her hand. “Both of you on stage in twenty minutes to warm up and run this thing. And John, wear the bloody support.”

Donna tossed the knee support at John before hastily exiting the room to the sound of John’s sigh and Rose’s giggle.

 

TBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTB

The quiet swoosh of the curtains brushing the stage floor as they fell alerted Rose that she could officially break character, but it was the sensation of cool fingers whispering up her arm and back down again that really brought her out of character. John’s fingers continued mapping out her arm wandering up to touch her cheek.

“Think Donna was pleased?” Rose whispered, turning her head to kiss John’s fingers.

“Well she hasn’t said anything yet, so she is probably vigorously scribbling down notes. Although, if she was displeased, I’m sure we would have been chewed out by now,” John said from below her.

“Do you think I could get up at least? This tomb bed really isn’t as comfortable as it looks,” Rose laughed. She was laying on her back with her head and arms hanging off the foot of the bed.

“I have a better idea.”

Before Rose could ask what this so called better idea was, she was gently tugged down on to the floor, and evidently on top of John, who let out a soft “oof”.

“All right?” Rose asked.

“Mmm, never better,” John smiled, nuzzling into her neck. “I think we should just finish like this, don’t you?”

“I think it could show a bit of promise,” Rose murmured, grinding her hips against John’s, prompting a hum of approval.

“Couldn’t agree with you more,” Jack’s voice called happily from the wing. John cursed under his breath. “Could make things easier in the end.” Rose felt her face heat and made a move to scramble off John. Once they were in a sitting position, he manoeuvred them so Rose was still half in his lap, Rose thought it may have been to hide evidence of what they had started.

“Has anyone ever told you that you have impeccable timing?” John bit out.

“Just doing my job as choreographer,” Jack smirked, coming to sit down at the foot of the stone bed. “I’m supposed to see what would look the best, but also the most natural for the dancers. It makes things flow much nicer, and I think this,” he gestured to Rose and John’s positioning. “Is far superior to what we had originally done. As nice as the sprawled out and upside down is, I definitely prefer watching you on top of each other.”

“Oh my god…”Rose groaned into her hands.

“Well, we open tomorrow, so I think it’s a bit late for you to change up the choreo, so if you don’t mind, Rose and I need to rehearse some more,” John said, pulling Rose to her feet and glaring daggers at Jack. Jack only continued to smile, looking perfectly at ease.

“Actually, Jack has a point,” Donna cut in from the other side of the stage.

“Do you want to invite the rest of the company up here as well? Perhaps the bloody Queen would also like an invitation to this backstage soiree?” John muttered. Donna ignored him.

“I quite like this idea of Juliet draping her body over Romeo’s during their last moments together. It’s a bit more raw and tragic, but that also means it’s a little messier.” Donna paused to think for a moment before coming to a conclusion. “However, after all the audience has seen and felt watching the love and loss of two people, I think it may have more of an impact. It might be a bit of a mistake saying this, but why don’t the two of you improvise the last few moments a little bit, then just finish up like this?”

“What, just make up choreography on the spot?” Rose asked.

“Well yes and no,” Jack replied. “Keep the choreography the same, but feel free to adapt the movements a little bit to get your emotions across.”

“John attempts to recreate some of your beginning moments together with what he believes is your lifeless body, which by the way, was incredibly heart breaking,” Donna said emotionally. Rose took note of Donna’s eyes, she must have been crying. “So perhaps you could also attempt to recreate some of your moments together. John would represent the physical turmoil of losing a true love, and you would represent the emotional turmoil.”

John and Rose looked at each other, pondering Donna’s suggestion. Both of them brought so many of the emotions from their own relationship into their dancing. Doing so just seemed to make everything more real. But now Donna and Jack were asking them to go even deeper, tapping into an emotion that neither one of them every wanted to experience.

“It was just a thought,” Donna said, perhaps sensing the difficulty of the task. “Both of you are currently remarkable with out changing a thing, and if you continue to dance like you just did, there won’t be a dry eye in the house. The two of you together are some of the most incredible dancers I have ever seen. Tardis is lucky to have you.”

“About that…” Rose began, wanting to bring up the potential of dancing with John again after he completed his run as a guest artist. She didn’t care how it happened, even if it meant dancing on the street corner with him for loose change, she just wanted it to happen.

“Well, what do we have to lose then?” John interrupted with a manic grin. “We can try doing the scene again with the new choreo, see how it works and go from there.”

Rose exhaled a frustrated breath through her nose. Once again they avoided the subject of John leaving. John, Donna, and Jack were all oblivious to her inner turmoil as they discussed how they thought they could rearrange some of the movements.

“Rose?”

Rose looked up to see the three of them looking at her expectantly. “Sorry, what?”

“I was just asking if you would rather just our hands stay linked at the end of the scene or if you want to go all the way and just fall on top of me?” John asked. The mirth in his eyes clearly said his vote was for the latter.

“I doesn’t matter, whatever works best,” Rose said in a small voice with a forced smile, but she couldn’t help the hint of irritation that also made its way in. She watched John’s eyebrows furrow.

“Everything all right, Rose?” John asked, taking a step back towards her.

“Fine, I’m fine,” Rose responded, crossing her arms protectively across her chest. She hoped that her voice didn’t sound as fake as it felt. “Lets just get this show on the road, yeah?”

“You heard the lady, we’ve not got much time left to rehearse, and we just altered the choreography of a pivotal scene. Places for the tomb scene,” Donna announced after a moment.

“Can you give us a few minutes?” John asked, never taking his eyes of Rose. “We should probably roughly work out what we wanna do. You know talk it out before we walk it out.”

“As if you two have ever needed to talk something out before doing it. You’ve ten minutes, before I’m starting the music. We just want to see how it looks at the end anyways. Whatever we don’t like we can change,” Donna said before leaving with Jack.

“So I guess your steps will be pretty much the same, yeah?” Rose asked once she and John were alone.

“Rose…”

“Maybe I could start on the bed while holding your hand, then roll off it once I stab myself?”

“Rose.”

“Or I could forgo the bed completely, and just throw myself on top of you…” Rose continued ignoring John’s voice.

“Rose!” John half shouted, though it didn’t sound out of anger. She finally turned to look at him. His brows were knit together, his jaw set, and mouth in a hard line. He was the picture of frustrated confusion.

“Talk to me,” he added more softly, but the plea in his tone was not unnoticed.

“I am talking to you, I’m trying to work out this choreography, but you don’t seem to have any input so far.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“John we need to get these steps perfect. If we blow enough people away, maybe Donna will bring you back as a guest artist again! Or maybe someone will want me to go guest up at Gallifrey with you!” She blurted out and promptly slapped her hand over her mouth, turning away from John. Rose knew she sounded desperate and emotional. Oh, this was not good.

“Is that what all of this is about?” John asked. He gently turned her around to face him. “Rose, please. Talk to me.”

“It’s just that dancing with you, being with you, it’s been the greatest moment of my life. And I don’t want that to end. Jack’s a great partner and all, but he’s not you,” Rose said quietly, looking down at her feet before adding quickly saying, “but I also think he’s really taken a shine to doing choreography, so he wants to cut back on principle work and focus more on creating the dances. So then I will really be without a partner, and…”

“Hey, hey, shhh,” John stopped her babbling by placing his finger to her lips. “Rambling on like that is my job. And I really don’t think you’d want to dance at Gallifrey anyways. It’s not really the greatest company to be with, everyone takes things far too seriously up there.”

“But dancing with you, that wouldn’t be so bad,” Rose commented around John’s finger. John chuckled, moving his hand to cup Rose’s cheek. She leaned into his touch.

“We’ll figure something out, I promise. Let’s just dance in the here and now.”

Rose nodded, but knew this conversation was far from over. John looked relieved and pressed a tender kiss to her lips just as the music started up for their scene.

 


End file.
